


but i'm weak (and what's wrong with that?)

by exprsslyfrbidden



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Ace Kara, Alcohol, Angst, Angst to Fluff, Begging, F/F, Friends With Benefits, In later chapters that is, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Praise Kink, Slight Dom/Sub, Smut, emotional catastrophe, self-destructive behaviors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 70,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exprsslyfrbidden/pseuds/exprsslyfrbidden
Summary: Lillian threatens to hurt Supergirl if Lena continues their friendship. Naturally, this means they should become friends with benefits.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Canon is more of a...loose suggestion, if you will, so be prepared for none of this to line up with anything that happens in canon.

 

Kara’s never understood how caring for people could be a weakness. It’s a good thing, a pure thing. Caring for others is the foundation of society — nothing short of a lifestyle, for her.

 

She starts to understand why it’s considered a weakness when she hears Lena scream in the middle of her lunch break and her heart drops a million miles into the earth. She’s gone, rushing out of the bullpen, before Lena even pauses for breath. Seconds later, a streak of red and blue is flashing through the sky towards L Corp.

 

She gets there and it’s close. It’s too close. Far too close.

 

The feline alien, dressed in an absurdly out-of-place business suit, is milliseconds away from plunging his claws into Lena’s stomach when Kara crashes into him. Panic and terror makes her reckless and she hits him too hard, a sharp gust of wind scattering papers behind her. The tiling cracks under their combined weight. As soon as he’s down, Kara whirls. “ _Lena!_ ” Eyes wide, she checks the CEO over for injuries.

 

Lena sounds shaken, face pale as she steadies herself against the wall. “I’m fine, _Supergirl look out —”_

 

The alien slashes at Kara’s arm. At first she doesn’t feel anything, only heightened irritation at the tears in her suit. Then roaring fire down her bicep hits her like a meteor. She grunts and steps back, lashing out instinctively as the alien rears back again. Her fist connects and he’s out, crashing onto the coffee table and breaking it in half.

 

Threat neutralized, Kara immediately whirls back around to make sure Lena’s okay, and they collide, concerned hands and gazes bumping into each other. Their words overlap, waves of worry clashing and mixing together.

  
“Are you hurt? Lena, what happened?”

 

“Oh my god, you’re _bleeding._ ”

 

Kara’s gaze flicks up and down Lena’s body, hands hovering and checking for physical injury. Lena does the same, hand brushing her arm, fingers shaking, gentle but firm. “Sit down. I have a first aid kit in —”

 

Kara grasps Lena’s wrist and she stops. There’s a fragility in her eyes that Kara’s never seen before, like the kind of transparent light that comes through shattered glass. “Lena, what happened?”

 

Lena’s eyes flick back to Kara’s wounds, where metallic blue cloth is turning dark red, and her voice shakes the tiniest bit. “He came in saying he had a meeting,” she mumbles, “and then he said my mother sent him.” She leans into Kara’s hand on her shoulder a little bit, shuffling closer. “He threatened to hurt...to hurt _you,_ if I continued to talk to you.” She steadies herself. “She doesn’t want you _corrupting_ me, apparently.” A humorless laugh escapes her mouth.

 

Kara’s finally satisfied that Lena’s not hurt. Physically, at least. “Is your secretary here?” She doesn’t move her arm, aware that it’s going to send another wave of torn nerve electricity down her body. “Can you call 911?” Lena nods, and pulls away with the reluctance of a magnet separating from its twin.

 

Kara wraps her arm with her cape with care, wincing at the stretch of the torn skin. She’s going have to update the DEO about this. Who knew the cat-like Massood aliens could cut her skin?

 

Lena’s speaking in low undertones, throwing concerned glances Kara’s way with every few words. When she hangs up, Kara can hear tense, angry stress in her words. “My mother threatened to hurt you, Supergirl.” She says it like she wants Kara to give her answers.

 

“If you’re going to suggest that I stay away — don’t. I’m not going to listen.”

 

A wry, tired smile. “I wasn’t. But it’s not a coincidence that you were hurt. She specifically sent somebody who could hurt you.”

 

“How do you know?” It’s a reflexive question, borne out of too many police procedurals and actual crime scenes, and Kara regrets it as soon as the words are out of her mouth. Lena’s face stills, gaining that stone-like quality that freezes her features in neutral disaffection every time her mother’s mentioned.

 

“Lillian doesn’t do these things without thinking them through, Supergirl. It’s not a coincidence. She knew you would come here to save me.” A beat, and then her expression softens. “Thank you, for that. You must be tired of saving me by now.”

 

Kara shakes her head, golden locks bouncing on her shoulders. “No, of course not. That’s what I’m here for.”

 

Lena smiles softly and looks away, arms wrapping around herself. She looks lonely and majestic in that moment, like a forgotten, unnamed marble statue. Kara finds herself moving across the office and embracing Lena with her good arm.

 

Lena freezes for only a millisecond before sinking into the touch. “Why won’t she leave me alone?” she whispers, distraught. “I couldn’t...she _hurt_ you.” Her fingers brush across Kara’s makeshift bandage. “Maybe you _should_ stay away,” she laughs, almost joking.

 

“You know I can’t,” Kara murmurs. That sounds strange, very unprofessional, and she hastens to continue. “It’s my job. If I didn’t do it because I might get hurt...well, I wouldn’t be a very good superhero, would I?”

 

Lena tucks her chin in the hollow of Kara’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Kara tells herself that it’s just the shock that’s making Lena so clingy, and rubs her back.

 

Kara breathes deeply in the soft lavender aura of Lena’s perfume. “I’m more concerned about you getting hurt,” she replies. “My arm will heal in a few minutes. You won’t.”

 

Lena pulls away and Kara lets her go, both of them sensing the reluctance stretching between them like bubble gum and ignoring it. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, hmm?” she jokes, smile weak on her face. “Are you sure you don’t need gauze or something?” She reaches out for Kara’s arm again, fingers twitching like she can’t not be touching her.

 

Kara unwraps her cape and shows Lena the already-closing cuts. The scratches have stopped bleeding and as they watch, scabs begin to coalesce on her skin. Lena shivers, eyes wide. It’s like watching continental drift over time.

 

Kara lets her cape fall back behind her, glad to notice that Lena’s relatively composed. She’ll never understand how easily the woman can tuck her shock away. It’s almost as if nothing is news to her. Which it really is, Kara ponders. Lillian’s tried to kill or hurt Lena several times already. It’s a sobering thought that getting a hug from Lillian would be more likely to send Lena into shock than a murder attempt. “The police are here,” she murmurs. Lena nods, and that steely CEO gaze hardens in her eyes.

 

The police officers are ones Kara knows: Darren McKinnon and Johnson Soto, two guys she’s worked with before. It’s a relief; they’re efficient. Walking in, they take stock of the situation and don’t even flinch at the sight of the alien lying across pieces of broken wood. Kara greets them and fills them in.

 

As soon as they’re done with the scene, Kara nudges Lena. She indicates the unconscious alien. “Will it be okay if I leave to get this guy into a jail cell?” Lena hesitates for just a moment. “I’ll come back,” Kara adds, and Lena’s face twists, like she wants simultaneously to protest against it and for Kara to stay. “Lena?”

 

“Yeah, yes, that’s fine.” Lena waves her hands like she’s flapping away birds. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

 

Kara does, but with no small amount of backward glances as she leaps into the sky with the alien under her arm. She can hear Darren start to ask questions as she speeds over the city: “You’re certainly a popular woman, Ms. Luthor. You’re lucky Supergirl’s always around.”

 

Lena hums, and Kara imagines that she’s glancing over the skyline, trying to see red and blue. “Lucky,” she murmurs. “That’s one way to put it.”

 

When Kara returns, they’re still asking Lena questions. The CEO seems to relax incrementally when Kara floats back down onto her balcony, shoulders slacking, face smoothing out just a little. Left without official things to do, Kara cleans up the broken coffee table, to the amused grin of the officers. She’s sweeping the floor with a broom borrowed from the janitor’s closet when they finish asking questions.

 

“I didn’t know you did housekeeping for Ms. Luthor,” Johnson jokes, and Kara flashes him a broad smile.

 

“I clean up all sorts of messes, Officer Soto. Broken furniture is just one of my jobs.” They exchange goodbyes and then Lena’s giving her a strange look. “What?” Kara asks, smiling.

 

Lena shakes her head but her returning smile is less than joyful. “Nothing. You should...probably go, right? Other people to save, jobs to do?” Tension is visible in her neck and her hands are tight on the back of her chair.

 

Kara dumps the dustpan into the trashcan. “I’ll stay as long as I have to.”

 

A brief, _you-don’t-get-it_ laugh. “That’s not an answer, Supergirl.”

 

Kara eyes her curiously. “There are always things going on. I have to prioritize, figure out what the police can deal with and what I need to step in for. At the moment, National City’s police department have things handled.” As she gets closer, Lena seems to broil with conflict — that tenuous strain in her body tightens as her eyes seems to melt from chips of emerald to gentle pools of moss. Kara softens her voice, makes it less threatening. “Do you want me to stay, Lena?”

 

Lena looks smaller than Kara’s ever seen her. Never before has a murder attempt shaken her this badly. “I…” The word drifts away in the space between them and the unfinished sentence hangs like mist in the air. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Kara understands it as a defense mechanism, an act to prove that she’s strong. And it hurts to see Lena use it against her. But she understands. So she goes. “Take care of yourself, Lena.” She heads for the balcony door, hopes Lena won’t see the sorrow in her eyes and mistake it for disappointment. Lena reaches out as she walks by and they still, jerked into adjacent orbits again.

 

“Thank you,” Lena murmurs, hands grasping Kara’s arms. Somehow Kara’s hug earlier has broken all boundaries of physical distance, and Kara’s not complaining. “For saving my life. Again.” A little laugh. What else can you do in these situations but laugh?

 

“Of course,” Kara responds. Somehow this feels more intimate, more vulnerable, than anything they’ve ever said or done. Maybe it’s the physical touch. Maybe it’s the raw emotion in Lena’s eyes. Kara doesn’t really know.

 

Or maybe it’s the way Lena glances down at Kara’s mouth, just a quick flick of the eyes — but a flick nonetheless, and a deep, revealing one. Kara’s heart squeezes painfully. She glances down to find they’ve somehow migrated closer, only a foot away from each other. Inexplicable. Lena’s breathing is shallow. It feels like the seconds are teetering on a razor blade as they hover, just far enough to be apart, just far enough to be too close. “Always,” Kara says, to break the quivering silence. It’s impossible to keep her eyes on Lena’s. They drift down. It’s an damning path. Lena inhales sharply. She’s almost leaning in...

 

Then out the door, swift and with a parting grin that she doesn’t fully mean, away from the allure of Lena’s mouth and the warmth of her gaze and sheer heartstopping possibility.

— — —

 

Kara leaves, fleeing like she knows it’s going to happen if she stays a moment longer.

 

Lena closes the balcony door and pours herself two fingers of whiskey. She deserves it; near-death and near-kisses combined are going to be enough to actually give her hypertension. The alcohol gives enough of a buzz for her to ignore everything of the past few hour and pour her focus into her work. And if she pours another few fingers while she’s at it, well, she’s got to keep herself motivated somehow.

 

The building is mostly empty when her meetings are finally over, the sky painted pre-midnight and the city lights blinking sleepily. It’s late, but she can sleep in tomorrow for an extra hour to make up for it. She’s finishing up a review on a R&D proposal, scratching out whole paragraphs in bloody pen marks. She’s tired, she’s stressed, her eyes hurt, her head pounds and all she wants to do is go home and maybe fall asleep in the shower. And she’s been tipsy for the entire day. That hurts her head just as much as thinking about kissing Supergirl.

 

It’s a surprise that she hears the flap of bulletproof material zip by her balcony in her state of burnout, but she hears it. And her feet, aching from wearing heels all day, take her outside into the crisp air, like a dog after a bone. “Supergirl!” she shouts after the blur of red and blue, and then the wind sweeps by her in the opposite direction and Supergirl’s hovering in front of her, pretty face crinkled in concern.

 

“Lena? Is everything okay?”

 

“Are you busy? On the way to save people?” She’s talking fast, speedy on nervousness.

 

Bemusement tinges Kara’s smile. “Not really. Just on a patrol. Why, what’s up?” She drifts closer, boots tapping softly on the tile as she lands.

 

This is bad, bad, bad, bad, bad...Lena stares, the city lights glinting in Kara’s blue eyes, the sweet worry on her face, the perfect curve of her lips...like a siren call. She’s drowning in this dangerous desire, sinking quickly below the waves as Kara looks at her and just _exists._

 

She blinks.

 

Kara’s staring at her, perplexed, worried. They’re a lot closer now. Lena doesn’t know how that happened; did she move or did Kara move?

 

“Lena?” Supergirl’s voice is strangely strangled, like she has a chunk of emotion in her throat. Lena watches her, broad shoulders carrying the weight of a city and chin held up as if lowering it might ruin her. They stare at each other.

 

(this is all because Lena’s horny like a teenage boy and she’s been thinking about Kara for the entire day and every cell of her being is exhausted and she’s not thinking straight, but that doesn’t mean she wants it any _less_ )

 

“Supergirl,” Lena murmurs. Closer, drawing closer, sliding down that slippery slope. She closes her eyes, takes a breath, opens them again to drink in the sight of her.

 

Heat radiates off Kara’s body in enveloping waves. She’s washed her suit and it’s mended, neat stitches over the rips in the fabric. The tendons in her neck are taut, powerfully tense and thrown in stark shadow. She looms over Lena, a giant among mortals, and Lena wants nothing more than to be destroyed in her arms.

 

She remembers logic for a millisecond. Lena clenches control tight in her hand, forces logical thought to form words in her mouth that she never gets to say. Her heart seems to have disappeared into a mire of adrenaline and uncertain anticipation, nerves following and vanishing into Kara-fueled thoughtlessness. Supergirl is here, in her space, and she should be….saying something? Is there something she’s supposed to be doing? Why are they frozen here in this limbo, caught in a freeze-frame where nobody knows what happens next?

 

Kara’s voice is husky, low and worried. Each word slips out, pries Lena’s shaking fingers away from her grasp on self-control. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

 

“May I kiss you?” she blurts, asking on a single exhaled breath.

 

Knife-sharp inhale, bright blue eyes widen, a flash of something like awe flickers through Kara’s eyes and Lena feels like she’s freefalling, caught in a moment where she doesn’t know if she’s going to hit the ground or be caught in strong arms. Supergirl opens her mouth, speechless, and Lena _knows_. Her voice quivers. “Please?”

 

Kara’s lips are slightly rough from the cold air. She tastes like the sky. Her hand is unbelievably soft on Lena’s cheek. She’s warm, warm like hurrying inside from a blizzard to find a fireplace blazing, warm like the first taste of summer sun after a long winter.

 

Kara — Supergirl — kisses her, and she kisses back. A howling vortex rips all logic from her mind.

 

Then she’s _really_ _kissing_ _Supergirl_ , hands pawing at her clothes, mouth wet and wanting. Supergirl responds in kind, their chests heaving and breaths huffing sharp and needy in the lack of space between them. Lena bites — she can be hurt, Supergirl can’t, so she bites _hard_ — and pushes. Supergirl stumbles back and Lena’s struck dumb by her own power. Supergirl opens her eyes, raw want and something far more dangerous shining in her eyes, something akin to adoration.

 

She’s going to ask if Lena’s okay, because that’s what Kara would say.

 

“Yes,” Lena breathes, hands tugging at Kara’s cape, slipping down her waist. “Yes. Please.” She’s lost herself to this power, abandoned all pretense of being sane in the presence of this woman, in the arms of Kara Danvers. There’s no use trying. She’s gone, swallowed whole by hunger. Her heart is pounding, hollow and heady in her ears. “Please touch me,” she whispers.

 

Papers flutter in the air, the newly purchased coffee table screeches across the floor, the couch creaks dangerously; all Lena can do is moan as Kara lifts her up and they land on the couch. Her mouth burns across Lena’s neck and leaves licking trails of sensation down her collarbones. “Take my shirt off,” Lena mumbles, and Kara obeys. Lena doesn’t have time to even be self-conscious about her body, doesn’t even have the time to be thankful for wearing such a low-cut blouse before Kara’s unbuttoning it, fingers dexterous and shaking. “I wanted to kiss you this morning,” Kara mutters, low and almost embarrassed about it.

 

“O-oh?” is all she can manage, Kara’s mouth nibbling and sucking at her pulse. She’s being torn to pieces and sewn back together, Kara’s hands hesitant then deft on her nipples, scratching delightful patterns on her scalp, mouth wet and hot. A wanton moan escapes her lungs and hangs, obscenely loud, in the air above them. She would have blushed if there was blood left to go to her face.

 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Supergirl admits. She untangles Lena’s blouse from her arms, flings it across the room. “I could hear you talking, and all I could think about…” She drags a wet, open-mouthed kiss down the valley between Lena’s breasts. Lena’s back arches into the warm pads of Supergirl’s hands eagerly, wanting to be ruined. “....was that I should have kissed you.” She pauses, that kind light shining pure. “Are you sure you want this?”

 

They’ve stopped, hazy heat shimmering between them. Kara waits. Lena breaks.

 

“Yes.” It slips from her mouth too quiet for human ears but perfect for Supergirl’s. “I need you in me,” she begs, aching, heart pounding and rising with each swell of arousal between her legs. Supergirl bites her lip, gaze dark, and Lena groans. “Please,” she gasps, and Kara acquiesces.

 

Her skirt rips and Kara mutters, “Whoops.” Lena’s laughing, hilarity bubbling up in her chest — then her breath’s stolen as one finger sinks into her. She moans, low and filthy, uncontrolled. Kara’s fingers are long and deliberate, satisfying that needy ache that’s been there since she walked in with a pastel cardigan and the crest of El underneath.

 

“Fuck,” Lena groans, and she’s never been this wet, never been this desperate for Kara to move. And only one finger, her dirty mind snickers, and she clenches, hard. “ _Goddamn_ it, don’t just sit there —”

 

Kara moves her hand, leans down to lavish kisses on her breast (when did she take off her bra? where is it?) and Lena whimpers. She’s close already, worked up from begging and Supergirl’s strong arms flexing and the dirty, _filthy_ smile on her face — god, she’s so fucked —

 

(literally and figuratively, her mind whispers)

 

Two fingers now, careful and experimental. Lena gasps, “Yes, yes, yes,” slipping into the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Her pulse throbs low and in time with the slick slide of Kara’s fingers, gathering into a bundle of white pleasure, growing and swelling as Kara’s palm grazes her clit.

 

“You’re close.” Kara’s breathing hard, gaze darker than the depths of the sea, body warm and heavy above Lena, pressing down and trapping her in a cocoon of safety. Her arm works steadily between them, forearm tense as steel cable. Lena gasps, almost lets Kara’s name slip, turns it into a breathy moan instead. She usually isn’t vocal, doesn’t do these things, but when Kara says “You’re close” like she _knows_ — then all bets are off the table. Her hips are jerking up into Kara’s hand desperately, Kara’s kissing her and stealing the breath from her lungs. She’s vaguely aware of the obscene noise, the wet sounds of Kara pushing her closer to the edge and her borderline pornographic moans but she doesn’t care and Kara’s smirking affectionately above her (how is a smirk even _affectionate_ ?) and she is _close_ , so close —

 

“Come for me, baby,” she murmurs and Lena shudders, cries out, her muscles spasm and she presses so hard into Kara she think they might become one and then Kara grinds her palm down against her clit and — she comes, nails digging into Kara’s powerful shoulders, clenching around the iron pleasure of Kara’s fingers inside her. Cool liquid is sliding down her cheeks. “Shh, you’re okay, I got you.” Hands stroke her hair. Kara sounds like warm comfort. Lena buries her face in the crook of her neck. She smells like smoky vanilla and butterscotch, and if she didn’t already know that Supergirl and Kara Danvers were one and the same, she would now. Supergirl smells exactly like the sweatshirt Kara had lent her, the one that accompanies her to bed every night.

 

The last echo of pleasure shivers through her body. Lena opens her eyes, and there’s pure tenderness in Supergirl’s eyes, nothing but affection — utterly, resoundingly terrifying. She can deal with lust. That’s a primal emotion, one easily satisfied. Affection? Fondness? Those have no place in her world.

 

“Let me do you,” she mumbles on kiss-numb lips, yawning.

 

Supergirl’s smile is gentle. “Sure. But after I take you home, okay?” Lena doesn’t want to go home. Her apartment is cold and empty and lacks any semblance of a _home_ , but then Kara’s buttoning her shirt back up. Her cape is wrapped around Lena’s legs. She’s in Supergirl’s arms. “Hold on.”

 

It’s cold, freezing in the skyscraper air, but Supergirl burns. Lena was wrong, before. Supergirl isn’t the lunar eclipse at all. She’s the sun. She’s a star blazing in the sky, and Lena wants nothing more than self-immolation.

 

She closes her eyes for just a moment, resting her head against Supergirl’s chest, and then she’s in bed, wearing sweatpants and Kara’s sweatshirt. “K— Supergirl?” she mumbles into the darkness around her. A terrible hole gapes open in her chest at the sudden thought that she might be gone.

 

“Here,” comes the response behind her shoulder, and a suffusing heat sinks down beside her. “You should sleep,” she murmurs. Lena turns into her embrace, ignores the nuances of what it means and lets herself feel safe for the first time in ages.

 

“What about you?” Lena slurs drowsily. Kara’s still wearing her Supergirl suit.

 

“We can worry about that tomorrow,” she promises, and that’s enough for Lena.

 

— — —

 

She lies in the darkness, arms wrapped around Lena, and thinks up excuses. _A moment of weakness,_ her mind chants, over and over again, and she takes perverse joy in how _wrong_ that is.

 

A moment of weakness? Kissing Lena — that’s a moment of weakness. Sleeping with her? Unbuttoning that silk blouse, tearing her skirt, slipping a finger into her slick heat and then urging her to an orgasm — that’s not a moment of weakness. That’s a full hour of weakness.

 

She laughs, humorless and quiet, careful to not disturb Lena. As if it were _just_ a moment, instead of an entire day; as if her entire relationship with Lena, starting on that morning when she walked into her office with Clark, was just a _moment_ of weakness.

 

She’d left (not fled, _left_ ) when they’d almost kissed this morning. That had been control there. She’d known what Lena wanted but had still left.

 

But, _this_. When Lena had called out her name and then asked, breathless, if she could kiss Kara...well, no sensible person says no to that. So was it really weakness, or sensibility?

 

 _Weakness,_ her mind chants. _Weren’t you waiting to ask her out as Kara Danvers?_

 

Kara scowls into the darkness. Yes, she was. And she hadn’t intended their first time sleeping together to be so... _different._ She’d expected intimacy, softness, gentleness. Not the desperate neediness of Lena pulling at her or it happening on her _couch,_ of all places. Of course, Lena _asked…_ and even Winn knows the lengths Kara’s willing to go if Lena asks her to do something. Some call it being whipped; she just thinks it’s natural to do when you care about something. But what’s she going to do now?

 

It’s too warm inside to think. She untangles herself from Lena and escapes through the balcony. The air is fresh and cold, sweeping the sticky, warm afterglow of sex from her limbs and reinvigorating her blood. It helps her think.

 

The city sprawls out underneath her, asleep. The giant is slumbering but the people are still awake, pumping poison into their veins and getting laid, writing research papers and staying overtime, keeping the 24-hour fast food palaces open, keeping the sluggish blood of the city moving through the night. So many lives are happening right now, Kara muses as she floats in the air only breathed by skyscrapers. So many people are living, dying, making mistakes or hearing the best news of their lives. Her own personal mess is no more important than the next person’s.

 

She spends the creeping hours til dawn cleaning up messes. She stops muggings. She locks up burglars. She puts out little kitchen fires and stops a carjacking. Having to deal with these simple physical things, having to be a shoulder to cry on or a friendly presence in the neighborhood, is enough to take her mind off of the woman she’s left sleeping alone.

 

By the time she’s finished filling out the last of the police reports, the sun’s decided to begin its journey across the horizon and the heart of the city has begun to beat louder again. From her seat in the police station she hears Lena get up and sigh. She’s no doubt found Kara gone.  

 

Kara’s come to a conclusion: she’s going to have to come clean, give up all her secrets and admit who she really is. She’s going to tell Lena she’s Kara Danvers, and tell her that she wants to date her and hope that it works. She’s going to bare her soul and hope that Lena still trusts her. And maybe Lena will explain? After all, she’d initiated it...

 

She’s never been more terrified.

 

There isn’t an option for her to not have Lena in her life. She won’t even entertain that idea. She won’t let it happen. Kara takes a deep breath and straightens her pile of police reports. It’s time to set things right.

 

— — —

 

There are five dark, flowering bruises on her chest. It’s a constellation of sex, Supergirl’s mark of ownership. Lena shivers, a budding ache flaring to life between her legs again. She presses down experimentally on the bruises and hisses. It hurts. It hurts, but in a good way. She presses harder, relishes the pain.

 

There’s another one, tucked under her jaw. She watches the pale contrast of her fingers against the dark red marks in the mirror. She aches. Her muscles are sore. Supergirl’s gone, the bed long cold. She squashes the disappointment under her fingers along with the bruises. Kara has a article due today, and Supergirl is always in high demand. Lena shouldn’t be surprised (but she’d promised), she shouldn’t be this raw from waking up alone (hadn’t she promised?). Isn’t that how she likes it, anyways? No strings attached, one night stands with those strangers few and far in between?

 

...Of course not. Not with Supergirl, the unofficial goddess of her own unsanctioned religion. Not with Kara Danvers, the bright sunny woman who means far too much to her. She wants Kara back in her bed, that warm body against hers so she can — at the very least — return the favor. She’d promised.

 

Lena’s freezing. It’s seventy-something degrees in her apartment but she’s still cold, shivering just from looking outside at the mist-heavy city. Without Supergirl’s solar heat beside her, nothing feels warm. A terrible, full-body shudder wracks her limbs. How will she ever be normal again, living like another human being? It’s like losing a limb, leaving her forever regretful and nostalgic over what she once had.

 

She takes a steaming hot shower to fog the dark thoughts out of her head. The stream of hot water feels nothing like Kara’s hands, but she imagines anyways. Recalling each pleasant memory sends twinges of physical recollection down her nerves. Kara’s fingers in her hair. The hot press of her mouth. The feeling of refuge under her body. The husky tones of her voice. Lena curses quietly, laughing at her own situation. She’s truly lost, truly fucked. She’s supposed to go back to living her life as this never happened? She’s supposed to pretend like she hasn’t touched absolute divinity, like she hasn’t heard a goddess whisper her name?

 

But she wouldn’t want it any other way, she reminds herself as she slips back into her comfy clothes. She wouldn’t give up last night for anything.

 

Her sheets smell like Kara. She buries her face in them and inhales, chest aching and wishing desperately for her to come back. She can’t recover from this. She imagines, daydreaming despondently, that Kara comes back. Supergirl will come back and take her in those powerful arms and tell her she won’t leave again. She’ll probably apologize for last night, for leaving and for being so damn alluring. She’ll probably say something like — and here it diverges from real life possibilities — “I need to tell you who I really am”, or she’ll pull those silly, adorable fake glasses out from somewhere and put them on. And it’s really incredibly unrealistic, because there aren’t any pockets in her super suit. Where would she put the glasses?

 

Lena curls up tighter, sinking deeper into the daydream. She’ll probably apologize for the lie, explain it reasonably. Lena doesn’t hold it against her, she won’t have to explain a lot for her to be forgiven. She might already be forgiven. Lena doesn’t really know.

 

She’ll probably smile, the hesitant one where looks down at the ground because she cares too much and is afraid of hurting somebody. And that can’t happen. Lena can’t allow any of that to happen, because that would be a mistake of epic proportions. Lena’s so broken and torn up and such a fucking _mess_ , and Kara deserves more.

 

And if Kara says something soft and affectionate, Lena won’t be able to say no. She needs to say no. She can’t let Kara be dragged into the black hole that is her own life, because not even her sunshine-bright smile will be able to brighten it.

 

Nothing, not even light, escapes black holes.

 

So she’ll say no. For their own good. She scowls into the mattress. This isn’t a very nice daydream anymore. No, Kara will forego all that and just let Lena return the favor from last night. That’s better. She’ll fly in and Lena will do something — seductive, she supposes; she’ll have to work on that — and then Supergirl’s gaze will start to grow heated and then she can forget everything complicated in Kara’s body. Simple.

 

Her mind drifts backwards in time and a cold shiver ripples across her skin.

 

 _“Your mother says you should stay away from the Girl of Steel,_ ” the alien had said. “ _It would be a shame if something were to happen to her.”_

 

Lena had hissed something — she doesn’t remember the exact wording, but it had been acidic and defensive and outlined in pride for Kara’s strength — about Lillian not being able to do _shit_ and how her words were just a farce. Untrue, but Lena had been furious. Furious, and then terrified. Seeing ruby blood spill from Kara’s skin...she wouldn’t be surprised if her heart had stopped a little.

 

Combine deathly fear of losing somebody, magnetic mutual attraction, and whiskey, and things turn out great, she thinks. Just great.

 

She’s about to surrender to the grasp of sleep again when something changes. It’s the air pressure, or maybe the room gets warmer. Whatever it is, Lena’s fully awake again. Awake and convinced, terribly so, that Kara’s standing in the doorway. If she imagines that it’s true and doesn’t look, she won’t be disappointed. She lies there. She hopes fiercely.

 

“I know you’re awake.”

 

Kara’s smiling. Lena jerks upright and the word flows from her mouth in a fluid exhale. “Supergirl.”

 

Perfectly tousled hair, golden smile and eyes bluer than the Caribbean sea. Lena feels lightheaded. “Sorry for leaving,” she says. It’s okay. Lena’s already forgiven her. “There was a robbery downtown.”

 

“You came back,” Lena says. She shrugs, makes it into _it’s okay because you came back_ instead of the _I can’t believe you came back_ that she really means. A grin cracks across her face uncontrollably. “Come here?”

 

Supergirl crawls onto the bed. A pause. Lena sits taller, gestures, and Kara comes closer as if a puppet in Lena’s hand. Her hair tumbles around her shoulders in golden waves. She’s so pretty it hurts. Kara stops again, not quite close enough, and a starburst of reckless courage urges Lena on. She reaches out and grasps a fistful of Supergirl’s cape, yanking her closer. Supergirl lets her, eyes hooded and mouth falling open the slightest bit. Lena stops.

 

She can feel Kara’s breath ghosting across her cheeks and that irresistible warmth radiating from her body like a siren call, dragging logical reasoning further from her grasp. “We should...talk,” Kara murmurs, gaze flicking down to Lena’s lips twice in rapid succession. Lena hums in distracted acknowledgement of the suggestion. She could pull — just a little harder — and kiss Kara. But that would be too easy. She wants Kara to kiss _her_ , to lean forward and give in like she herself did last night.

 

She keeps those millimeters of air between them intact.

 

Kara’s eyes dart down again. Anticipation prickles across Lena’s skin. Vaguely, she wonders what they must look like — a Luthor, dressed in a National City University sweatshirt and sweatpants, with the girl of steel firmly in her grasp. In her control.

 

(ironic how reality shows the mirror image of their dynamic, because it’s Lena who’s tangled in Kara’s hands)

 

“After,” Lena suggests. She has no intention of this “talk” happening, not the way Kara wants it to. She can’t let those emotions slip out. She might have lost the battle against her thirst, but she won’t lose the war against her feelings. She raises her chin, watches Kara’s gaze follow the movement hungrily. Supergirl moves closer, knees shuffling the sheets, hands pressing indents into the mattress and inching ever closer.

  
Still, she doesn’t move.

 

Ah. Lena understands. She’s waiting for permission. “Kiss me?” she asks, hating the inherent weakness in her voice. The neediness. Like she already can’t live without her.

 

“Of course,” Kara husks, and she forgets about hating it. Kara tilts forward, millimeter by millimeter, letting gravity draw them closer, atoms falling away as she leans in —

 

Lena sighs into the kiss, relaxes, falls and lets powerful arms catch her. Kara throws her leg over Lena’s waist, straddling her, and that terrible, consuming heat batters her body into submission. Her hands fly up to tangle in gold locks. Kara tastes like toothpaste. Her fingertips are rough in Lena’s hair. Each kiss, each hungry, starving touch tethers them together even further. Kara presses her into the mattress, mouth moving slow but sure against Lena’s, teasing, nipping, tugging gently at her bottom lip and asking for more. Lena gives willingly, too eager to be consumed.

 

She drags her fingers down the taut muscles of Supergirl’s arm and cups a warm breast, thumb brushing deliberately light across her nipple — and then there’s an iron grip around her wrist. Kara’s breathing hard, lips swollen and a lovely shade of bitten. “Let me take care of you first,” she implores.

 

Lena frowns. There’s nothing she wants more than to feel Kara underneath her, writhing and compliant at the tips of her fingers. Sure, she’d love to come again at Kara’s skilled, dexterous hands, but she wants to return the favor. She’s wanted Kara for so long, simmering in her own frustration and hesitant fear to make the first move. Now that she has the opportunity to make the girl of steel fall apart in her hands? She’s not letting this go.

 

“Not until I make you come,” she murmurs. She surges upwards, flipping them over. Supergirl gives in to that without a fight, but proves to be a resolute brick wall in the face of Lena’s insistence.

 

“I’m fine,” she mutters, ducking past Lena’s kiss and scraping her teeth over one of her marks from last night. Lena groans at the delicious pain, body sagging. “Giving you pleasure is enough for me.”

 

Pulses of need, rich red in color, swirl within each jolt of yellow-blue pain. Lena’s nerves are ripped, tender shreds of sensation jittering down her body. She’s overwhelmed: Supergirl’s lips, soft on her neck; her strong body flexing beneath Lena; her fingers, slipping hot underneath her sweatshirt — Kara’s sweatshirt — and pushing it up, pulling it over her head and leaving her bare to the cold.

 

Kara buries her face in Lena’s chest, hands smoothing across her tense back. Air escapes her lungs — gasps, groans, sharp little inhales every time Kara’s teeth find another hickey — and she’s dizzy, like she can’t get enough oxygen. “But—” she tries, losing every thought in her mind as Kara’s hands slide down to grip her ass. “I — uh, fuck…you — I want to.” She doesn’t even know what that means. “Let me touch you.” There’s that familiar crinkle between Kara’s eyebrows again. Lena kisses it away. “Please,” she whispers, only the tiniest bit guilty about pushing. She knows Kara can’t say no to her.

 

True to form, indecision blooms on Kara’s face. “Maybe later,” she acquiesces quietly, peppering airy kisses on Lena’s jawline. Her hands slip around Lena’s front, warm fingers between her legs. Lena gasps, head falling against Supergirl’s solid chest.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Kara’s smiling. “Did you enjoy last night?” Lena doesn’t know why Kara’s asking, when the answer is dripping off her fingers. The innocence evaporates from Kara’s voice, replaced by simmering sensuality. “You were so good for me, begging....can you be a good girl again?”

 

Her words vibrate lowly through Lena’s ribcage and she clenches around the phantom of Kara’s fingers, shuddering. God save her. Kara knows which buttons to nudge, what words to say, how to tip Lena closer to the edge without even touching her. It’s unfair — but this entire thing is unfair. After all, Lena’s irrevocably tied to Kara, her ruination inevitable at her hands. She’s going to be destroyed, but all she can do is beg for more.

 

“Lena,” Kara reminds, sternly. Her fingers are gently sliding over her clit, deftly avoiding the jerk of Lena’s hips. It’s not enough and too much at the same time, little jitters of electricity down her spine like torture. “Tell me what you want,” she demands, and Lena falls apart.

 

“Uh — please, fuck —” She’s almost crying, so aroused it hurts. Kara’s fingers stroke her delicately, too softly. Her back arches, body taut and stretching out in anticipation, a garrotte yanked tight and ready to slice into pleasure. “Ah, fuck, just —  please — fuck me —” Her voice cracks.

 

How can a ray of sunshine like Kara Danvers look so sinfully delighted? Her eyes catch on Lena’s desperate gaze, blue sparkling with mischief. “Well, since you asked so nicely...”

 

Lena can feel every ridge of her rough fingertips, the oh-so-subtle scrape of a nail and the insistent press of pleasure that Kara draws out in long, beautiful strands. She exhales heavily. “Ohh…” Lena clutches Kara like a lifeline — body shuddering, breathing coming in short pants, she might as well be drowning — and surrenders to her touch. “M-more,” she pleads, nails digging into the iron flesh of Kara’s arm. “Please.”

 

“Sorry? You want me to stop?” Kara’s hand slows tortuously, stroking deep and tender. Lena whimpers, hips twitching, heat tensing across her nerves as Kara teases her. She might be crying, she doesn’t know, but everything hurts so _good_ and she doesn’t know how to speak anymore.

 

“N-no, don’t stop, please —” She loves it, every moment of stretched out anticipation. She loves begging, loves relinquishing that power to somebody who will never hurt her.

 

“You’re so good, Lena, so good,” Kara murmurs, and then her fingers are moving swift and steady and Lena’s wrecked. There’s a thin film of sweat on her limbs and her muscles ache from last night but she chases her orgasm, Kara strong and reassuring beneath her. Kara’s breathing hard, face flushed and soaked in want. Her voice is a growl.

 

_“Say my name.”_

 

It’s this moment that haunts Lena later. This is when reality cracks into pieces and spirals into a thousand different possibilities — other worlds where the wrong name slips out and all is lost, worlds where she fucks up everything.

 

But in this world, she does the right thing. Her right thing.

 

“Supergirl,” she gasps, and in that moment — the word arcing in the air, pleading with the heavens, hoarse and rough in their ears — she makes the decision. She’s bundling those emotions up and tossing them to the flames, shoveling those ashes into the sea. She’s succumbed to her fate. Driven by the fear of losing the thing she needs the most, she’s given up her chance for more; how could things have turned out this way? She wasn’t supposed to let Kara complete her. She wasn’t supposed to be here, crumbling to pieces at Supergirl’s fingers. “Supergirl,” she pleads again.

 

This is a different orgasm, a blinding one that feels like the mushroom cloud of nuclear explosions. Air leaves her lungs, Kara’s fingers press just hard enough, and her nails dig into Kara’s arms. Hard enough to draw blood, if she were human.

 

Kara holds her, and she forgets herself in the throbbing pleasure.

 

When she blinks back into reality, Supergirl’s rubbing her back, whispering things into her ear in Kryptonian. Everything is sore, but also numb with afterglow. Something hazardously affectionate tickles her throat and she swallows the words with difficulty. “Damn.” Her voice is hoarse. “Who would have known that Supergirl is phenomenal in bed?”

 

A lovely pink creeps across Kara’s cheeks. “Flattery won’t get you far,” she retorts, smiling. Then sobriety steals across her face. “We need to talk about this, though.” Lena’s heart drops. She rolls off of Kara, immediately missing the warmth of her body. “I think —”

 

She has to stop it now, before it’s too late. “I think we should keep it physical,” she blurts. Supergirl stares at her. “As friends. With benefits.” Each word cuts into her mouth. Lies, every single syllable. Kara’s still staring at her with wide eyes. Lena forces a teasing lilt into her tone. “Unless you want this to be a one-time thing?”

 

“No, not at all,” Kara says. Her words rush together. “Of course not.”

 

Lena forges on. She’s sealing her fate, but what else can she do? She’s lost the battle, but she’s going to win this war, because the other alternative is destroying the person she wants the most. “I think it would be the best course of action. For both of us.”

 

And really, it’s not like she has the courage to take the other path. It’s her fatal flaw, this refusal to acknowledge that this crush, this lust, extends further than just physical attraction. She can’t face her genuine emotions. It might doom her if she did.

 

“...Yes, of course.” Supergirl’s distracted — listening to something outside, perhaps? — and her mouth is turned down at the corners. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

 

Lena nods, hating herself. “Yes.” She screws the lid shut on those feelings, shoves that jar of forbidden emotion far away, and seeks solace in the easiest thing she can find: Kara’s body. “Now will you let me touch you?” She’s playing coy, but there’s only a weak smile on Kara’s face.

 

“It’s — it’s not you, I promise. But I’d rather not.” Her face twists uncertainly. “I think you call it — asexuality?” She chews her lip, watching Lena’s reaction.

 

She processes this. Kara Danvers, Supergirl, asexual? After that mind-blowing sex? “...Go on,” she encourages. She knows about the spectrum of sexuality, but she never would have figured Kara to be ace.

 

Kara twists so she’s lying on her side, facing Lena. “It’s just — I’ve never felt sexual attraction the way humans do. I like giving. And I’m pretty good at it, so.” A cocky, jaunty smile grows on her lips and Lena has to fight to mirror it.

 

“So you’re okay with...not being touched?”

 

“Yeah, I’m satisfied if you are. Honestly, orgasms are…” She shrugs, eyebrows furrowed, apologetic. “They’re a bit much, for me. It’s overstimulation, with super senses and all that.” She’s waiting then. Waiting for Lena’s approval.

 

“I don’t mind,” Lena murmurs. “I just want to make sure you don’t feel — neglected. It feels kind of….weird, receiving all the time?” She rebels against the urge to reach out and tangle her fingers with Kara’s. “I’ll get used to it, hopefully,” she insinuates, and Kara’s eyes crinkle in a smile.

 

“We’re good, then?”

 

“Yeah. We’re good.”

 

Before stiff awkwardness can settle on them, Supergirl pushes herself upright and smooths the wrinkles out of her cape. She looks out-of-place in Lena’s bedroom, the splash of her crimson in her costume like garish blood. “I have to go,” she mutters, forehead creasing. “Domestic disturbance a few blocks from here.” They both look at each other and don’t move.

 

Kara moves reluctantly to the door. No kiss goodbye, then.

 

The words come automatically to Lena’s lips. “Be safe.” What the hell does that even mean? Friends with benefits don’t say things like that.

 

Supergirl smiles, bittersweet at leaving. “Just call me if you need me. In the future.” And then she’s gone.

 

— — —

 

“Just call me if you need me. In the future.”

 

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ . Only she would be able to pull something like this off. Alex would laugh her head off if Kara told her. She can imagine Alex’s dry disbelief already: “You went out to confess your feelings for her and ended up becoming friends with benefits? Were you speaking _English_?”

 

Okay, whatever. It’s only funny if you’re not the person involved.

 

How can she be so...gutless? Lena tugs her closer and _Rao,_ all Kara can think about is _one more kiss._ Lena kisses her and then Kara wants _more,_ wants to make Lena feel good and Lena sure as heck doesn’t protest against it. It’s just unfortunate that she falls so easily into the role, giving Lena what she wants: loss of control, power play, pleasure. It’s easier to do that because the opposite of _just another kiss_ is perhaps _no more kisses ever_ and she can’t help it, she’s _scared._

 

(and Supergirl isn’t supposed to be scared, Kara Danvers isn’t supposed to be scared, but she can’t do anything about it but kiss Lena _one more time_ and she hates herself for it)

 

It’s frustrating, absolutely infuriating, and makes her want to punch something. She takes it out on the crime rate instead of concrete blocks at the DEO. Apparently concrete dust is clogging up the air filters.

 

She shows up at the juvenile detention center and tells kids about the opportunities they’ll have once they’re out. She promises to come back so they can teach her how to play basketball. After that is an appearance at a high school in the lower-income neighborhoods to encourage kids to stay in school, and regales them with tales of how she (by she, she means the DEO) defeats more bad guys with science than with brute force. The afternoon is dedicated to some good ol’ footwork: catching up with drug dealers, helping old ladies cross the street, saving people from car crashes, the usual.

 

She’s heading home for a shower when she hears the telltale smash of glass nearby. She follows the sound to an old blue house. The back window’s smashed and the thief is dressed in a misbuttoned black shirt that’s three sizes too big and ripped jeans. “Don’t do this, buddy,” she advises, and he screams, high-pitched.

 

“Jesus motherfucking _christ_ you scared the _shit_ out of me!”

 

“All right, come on, let’s go.” He’s sensible; he doesn’t even complain as she leads him back outside. “Don’t try anything if you want to be conscious when you get to the station.”

 

“All right, damn, bad day or something? No need to get all aggressive on me.” He squints at Kara, looks her up and down. “What’s up, Supergirl? You look like somebody just dumped you after five years and an engagement.”

 

She shoots him a piercing look. He holds his hands up.

 

“Just being observant! I mean, if you wanna talk, I’m your guy. You’ll never see me again, why not? My buddies all say I give the best advice.”

 

Kara huffs. “Thanks, but no thanks. All right, let’s go.” She reaches out to grab his arm, but he ducks out of her reach.

 

“Hey, hey, sometimes you need somebody to talk to, just somebody out of your regular life. You look like you could use a talk. Just to get it out, y’know?” He puts his hand over his heart. “Promise, I’m not tryin’ to get out of this. I’m a listening guy, I like to give advice. You look like you need some.”

 

Kara considers it. Normally, she wouldn’t even entertain the option, but nothing is normal right now. She leans back against the side of the house, crossing her arms. “What’s your name?”

 

“Laurens. Laurens Smith.”

 

“All right, Laurens. Advise me on this: what do you do when you go out to tell somebody you have feelings for them and end up becoming friends with benefits?”

 

To his credit, he doesn’t laugh. He just thinks about it. The sounds of neighborhood life rustle around them, trash cans rattling and dogs barking. A child shouts with joy in the distance. “Did he suggest it?”

 

“Yeah.” She doesn’t bother correcting him. Let people live comfortably in their heteronormativity.

 

“Wait it out,” he declares, confidently. “Friends with benefits never works out. Sex automatically leads to emotions because of all those chemicals swirling around your brain. Just give it time, let him come to his senses. It’ll happen. Trust me.”

 

She narrows her eyes. “Wait it out? I —” She exhales heavily. “Why? You really think it’ll make them realize they want to be with me? Realize their emotions?” It sounds like a romcom, she thinks despondently. This entire situation is worthy of a Netflix show.

 

He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What else can you do? It’s process of elimination. You’re not gonna turn it down, right? If you do, he’s gonna think you’re not interested at all and then it’s game over. This keeps some of your options open. Gives you hope.”

 

Kara turns the logic over in her head. It makes sense. This is the only way to stay close to Lena. She’s good at giving; she can deal with worshipping Lena’s body over not having her at all. “You’re right,” she admits reluctantly. “It makes sense.”

 

He nods. “It does.” She grabs his collar and Laurens gives her a wry grin. “No chance of letting me off with a warning?” They lift off the ground, and by the time they land, Laurens is running out of cuss words. “Jeez,” is all he has left, legs shaking. “Thanks for the warning.” He looks around. “Waitaminute, this ain’t the station.”

 

Kara looks up at the apartment. Two kids are playing hopscotch on the sidewalk, using a piece of charcoal to draw the squares. “Don’t let me catch you breaking into anything again, Laurens. Or I’ll tell your wife about it.” Kara waves, and the woman putting up laundry on the fifth floor waves back. “She won’t let you go as easy as I will.”

 

Laurens stares at her, wide-eyed. “Wha- you know my wife?”

 

Kara smiles at the kids when they notice her. “I helped Amina set up the community garden. Thanks for the talk, Laurens.”

 

“Um. Yeah, no problem, Supergirl.” He shouts after her as she lifts off the ground. “If you want anymore advice, I’m your man! Tell me how it turns out!” She gives him a thumbs up.

 

She flies home with a smile on her face. She can deal with this. She can handle it. All she has to do is....wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing a multi-chap fic is sort of experimental for me. I've currently got up to chapter 7 written, and a loose plan for the ending, so we'll see how it goes?? 
> 
> Comments, questions, critiques, advice, first born children, I'll take 'em all!
> 
> follow me at feveredreams.tumblr.com for more gay ranting


	2. Chapter 2

 

She digs the hole deeper.

 

It’s an exhausting week, filled with all-nighters and coffee-fueled days. Lena’s tumbling onto her couch as soon as she gets home on Friday, lazily undoing her bra and tossing it onto the coffee table. Her feet hurt from walking around all day inspecting a production plant in the city. Her head aches from reading reports. Her neck is sore from looking down at papers all day. All around, she feels like shit.

 

Her hand automatically wanders below the waistband of her slacks.

 

It’s a habit developed earlier in the year: Lena will work herself up, thinking about Kara or Supergirl. Nothing fancy. Just what works, like imagining Kara between her legs, hair tickling Lena’s thighs; the way she’d kiss Lena when they’re alone, the taste of sunlight on her lips; the way her arms would flex and the sweet smell of vanilla from her hair…

 

At first, her rationale had been stress relief. Kara Danvers is adorably cute. Supergirl is sinfully hot. It’s the best of both worlds, just a convenient pretty face and a name to gasp. Until it had changed, inevitable like the changing of seasons, from lust into something…. _clichéd_ and emotional.

 

Still, she’s not going to fight science. Orgasms release good hormones, and lord knows she needs those. It’s her Friday night ritual.

 

She’s already conjuring up thoughts of Kara from their last meeting when she remembers.

 

She can... _have_ Kara now. She stops and sits up, looking at the balcony. Will she really come if Lena calls her name? Her feet take her across the tile and onto the balcony, frisky wind tugging at her hair. She looks over the neon splash of city across the horizon.

 

“Supergirl?”

 

It feels stupid, calling out to the heavens like the priestess of some long-forgotten worship. She stands there in her bare feet, shivering in the chill. She’s just about to berate herself for acting so naϊve when — a sharp breeze, the rip-snap of tough cloth in the wind — Supergirl’s there, cape half-tucked across her shoulders.

 

“You called?” Her face is ruddy from the air and the grin on her face is loose and giddy.

 

“I did.” Lena stares a little longer, awed. Kara tries to fix her cape and almost drops it. Lena remembers where she is and what she’s doing. “Come in, please.”

 

“Nice place,” Supergirl comments, and Lena catches a whiff of something incredibly saccharine on her breath. The balcony door slams shut, too loud, behind her, and she winces. Her cape slips off her shoulders and onto the floor. “My bad.”

 

“Supergirl, you’ve been here before. Are you…” Lena narrows her eyes and Supergirl blinks, wide-eyed, under her scrutiny. “Are you drunk?”

 

Kara giggles. “No.” She picks up her cape and throws it over her shoulder like a frat boy with a varsity jacket trying to impress girls. There’s even a bit of swagger in her step.

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“How do you know?” Kara shoots back, tugging her boots off. She hops on one foot, almost falling over, before tossing them to the side haphazardly. “Aliens can’t get drunk.”

 

“I know for a fact that alien alcohol exists, K- Supergirl.” Lena catches herself last second. That’s dangerous. She needs to stop referring to Supergirl as Kara in her head. “I didn’t know you drank.”

 

“I don’t,” Supergirl maintains. Lena’s left eyebrow twitches up skeptically. Supergirl relents. “Not…usually. I got roped into a drinking game.” That loose grin slides onto her face again. “I’m just a little tiny bit tipsy. Don’t worry, I can still fly.”

 

Lena tries to imagine it — Supergirl playing beer pong, or doing shots, or flying in a dizzy, zig-zag pattern. “Sorry for pulling you away,” she apologizes, realizing that Kara has a life. She’s not just here to summon at a moment’s whim when Lena’s horny. Shame burns across her cheeks.

 

Kara blows a raspberry, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” There’s still worry creased across Lena’s brow. Supergirl hurries to reassure her. “I don’t particularly like drinking, anyways. Especially when there isn’t any alien aspirin to help with hangovers.”

 

Interesting. “You don’t have any alien medicine? I would’ve thought that something would exist. Not even human medicines work?” It’s hard to  help this recent, burgeoning fascination with aliens. Lena wants to know every detail — every tiny fact — about Kara.

 

It’s borne of a frail hope that maybe if Lena knows enough, then she’ll be able to understand why exactly Kara leaves her a breathless fool every time she’s near.

 

“Mmm, yeah, nothing works on Kryptonians.” Kara shoots her a sly smile. “But you called me here for a reason, right?” Lena laughs, surprised.

 

“Yes, I suppose so.”

 

“You suppose so?” That giddy smile is on Kara’s face again, tilting towards the right corner of her mouth. She saunters closer. “You want me to leave? I can do that.” She gestures towards the balcony, expression genuine and teasing.

 

Lena tries to confront her and finds the edge of the counter pressed into her back. “You wouldn’t,” she declares, jerking her chin up to meet Kara’s eyes. It’s uncanny, their height difference when she doesn’t have heels on.

 

Her cape slides off her shoulder and onto the floor. “Wouldn’t I?” Kara counters, smirking. Her hands plant themselves firmly on the counter on either side of Lena’s waist. She leans down and nuzzles at Lena’s neck, hair falling in insouciant waves. Lena exhales. Stress flows from her with the breath. “I think you overestimate yourself, Ms. Luthor,” Kara mumbles into Lena’s skin.

 

She’s only teasing, Lena knows, but the irrepressible urge of competition surges in her anyways. “Is that so?” Primal instinct roars. She reaches around and gets a good handful of Kara’s hair. Kara’s mouth parts in a gasp as Lena tugs her head back sharply. Something sharpens in those blue eyes, something that reminds Lena of the focus of a panther spotting its prey. She doesn’t let go.

 

The flush of inebriation in Kara’s cheeks and the tip of her nose is adorable. The arousal humming in the background is abruptly joined by unexpected affection that spills words into Lena’s mouth. “You’re cute,” she blurts.

 

The dangerous look in Kara’s eyes fades into a dopey grin. “No, you’re cute,” she shoots back. A knowing, teasing smile. “And not very good at this.”

 

“Hey!” Lena jerks Kara’s head back again, rough. She’s unfazed. It only draws Lena’s attention to the muscles flexing in her throat, that smooth expanse of skin inviting and exposed to the air. “It’s not my fault you’re distracting,” Lena growls. Kara laughs a little, breathless and open.

 

“But it is your fault that you’re distracted,” she notes. “Whatcha gonna do now?”

 

Lena considers it. She considers the powerful slope of Kara’s shoulders and the eager spark in her eyes, and makes a choice. “I, um. I want your mouth on me,” she mutters. Kara stares at her with the same surprise as a kid who actually recieves a puppy on Christmas Day. “If you’re okay with that,” she adds quickly, already feeling embarrassed for being so forward. She doesn’t say these things to people, at least not in real life. Fantasies, sure. But her first time had been vanilla and heterosexual, so these kinky, confident pornographic moves stay in her head.

 

“I am _definitely_ okay with that,” Kara reassures, swaying a little on her feet. “Do you want —”

 

“ _Wait_ never mind I haven’t shaved.” Lena’s face feels warm. “Never mind.”

 

Kara tilts her head to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t care.” The soft r’s of her words are starting to melt, words slurring into one another. The alcohol’s kicking in.

 

Lena shakes her head. “Yeah, no. Next time, maybe.” She sighs dramatically, pulling her hand from golden locks and resting it on Kara’s waist. “I suppose I’ll have to settle for your fingers.”

 

Kara scoffs lazily. “Not with that attitude, you’re not.”

 

Lena smirks. Boldness tickles her skin. “Why don’t you come...adjust my attitude, then?”

 

Kara makes a choked noise, one hand coming up to rub her temple. “That was…” She guffaws into the back of her hand. “Absolutely terrible. Where do you get your lines? Porn?”

 

Lena gapes at her, affronted. “What? I thought that was smooth.” She’s going to have to re-evaluate her idea of seduction, fast. “And I don’t watch any porn, thank you very much. I don’t need it, when I have you.”

 

Kara laughs again, but this is an altered laugh — one soaked in surprise and unexpected delight. She tilts her head at Lena. “Okay, that one was good.”

 

Lena trails her hand across the fabric of Kara’s suit, fingertips dipping and swelling along the muscle of  Supergirl’s abs. “It’s true,” she murmurs, eyes hooded as she looks up at Kara. “I have this — ritual. For Friday nights.” Her eyes flash. “Would you like to see?”

 

Kara’s eyes flick down to Lena’s chest. “You’re not wearing a bra,” she notes, pleased. “Is that part of your ritual?”

 

“It is, actually.” Lena grins lopsidedly at Supergirl. “Over here.” She expects Supergirl to follow and maybe sit on the coffee table or one of the other chairs, but instead she leans her forearms on the back of the couch and leans over to watch. Lena slides onto the couch, eyeing her amusedly. “Front row seat, hmm?”

 

Kara shrugs, hair bouncing. “I don’t even know what you’re doing,” she deflects, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “Do I want a front row seat?”

 

“Depends.” Lena settles on the couch, lying down. Kara watches intensely. “Every Friday, I come home, I kick my shoes off, take my bra off…” Lena lets her hand slide under her blouse, the fabric riding up to reveal just the sloping curve of her chest. “I usually like to think about you coming by my office, like the other night…” She flicks the pad of her index finger over a pert nipple, shivering at the sensation. Kara’s eyes are burning, searing blue. Her gaze is corporeal and thick as it sweeps over the long lines of Lena’s body. “And I imagine you touching me. Your hands, all over me...” Her hand slips down the slope of her stomach, towards the waistband of her slacks.

 

A hand grips her wrist. “As much as I would like to see you touch yourself,” Kara murmurs, voice husky, “I have a better idea.” She floats over the couch, spots of red coloring her cheeks. Her lips are still curved in a smile, like she’s forgotten how to not grin. “Want to try sex in the air? It’s like the mile high club, but even _more_ exclusive.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

 

Lena stares at her. “...That doesn’t sound safe?” There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “I mean, I trust you to not drop me. But the mechanics seem…chaotic.”

 

Kara considers her rationale. “I am drunk,” she declares, somehow proud and disappointed in the same sentence, and Lena has to stifle a snort. “You make the decisions.”

 

“All right, lightweight. Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

 

“Ooh, that sounded sexy.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Kara barely waits until Lena’s out of her clothes before tackling her to the bed. It’s rougher than last time — there’s less restraint in Kara’s actions, a sharper, stronger undercurrent of raw power — and Lena doesn’t know whether to be afraid or turned on.

 

Her body decides. Rough sex works when Kara’s doing the roughing up. She knows control, she’s lived it every day of her life. She wouldn’t hurt Lena —

 

Kara nips at Lena’s neck and she feels it break the skin. “ _Ow_ ,” Lena yelps, more startled than hurt.

 

The sudden wind tugs lightly at her hair. Kara’s on the other side of the room, arms clutched around herself, looking smaller, the most vulnerable Lena’s ever seen her. Terror, stricken and pounding, reflects in her eyes. “I hurt you,” she breathes. Her hands fist in the fabric of her skirt. “I’m so sorry. I should go. I can’t —”  

 

Hurried reassurance. “K- Supergirl, no, I’m fine, it’s okay. You just...surprised me.” Lena touches her neck. It’s fine, no blood, just a darkening bruise and indents in her skin. Kara stares, wide-eyed, apprehensive. Scared. “See?” She smooths her tone, turns it more placating and gentle and emphatic. “It’s okay. I know you wouldn’t do it on purpose.”   


“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Her voice is tiny, and Lena gets a flash of Kara as a child — terrified of losing control of her powers, of hurting the ones she loves.

 

“You won’t. I trust you.” She means it. She means it intensely, more than she’s ever meant anything else. It’s a fundamental truth of her existence, this selfless, blind faith in Kara Danvers. “Supergirl. Give me your hand.”

 

The first step takes millenia. The moment stretches across time and still Kara doesn’t move, the moment crosses space and still she hesitates.

 

Her foot shuffles across the floor.

 

Then the second step, the third, and she gives Lena her hand. It’s trembling, the only outer sign of her despair. Her skin radiates that familiar warmth, that reassuring charm. Her fingers lie limp in Lena’s palm.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again, and Lena’s heart aches for her. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Come lie with me.” Lena tugs her closer, pulling her through spiderwebs of hesitance and fear. She lies down next to Lena with the deliberate touch of somebody defusing a bomb. “Ka-” She stumbles over the word, thinks fast and panicked. “You care,” she recovers, acting calm through the stuttering panic. “That means you would never hurt me on purpose.”

 

Distantly, she wonders if this is a legitimate conversation to be having with somebody who’s just supposed to be a lover. Do regular people talk about these things with their fuckbuddies?  

 

Of course, regular people don’t get to have Supergirl in their beds, she reminds herself.  

 

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Kara repeats, still keeping an inch of space between them. Worry hangs over her face like the shadow of a cloud passing over the sun. “I couldn’t —” She chops the sentence short, like something forbidden.

 

“Okay,” Lena murmurs. “Here. Let me put on some clothes.” She crawls back into bed with her Harvard shirt on and pajama pants. “Scooch.” Kara moves over obediently, still watching her with that wide-eyed fear. “I won’t push you,” Lena murmurs. “Is it okay if I just lie here?” She points to the hollow of space under Kara’s arm.

 

“...Yeah. That’s okay.”

 

Lena slots herself into that warm space, sighing into the sweet iron tang of Supergirl’s suit. “Just stay,” she mumbles. “For a little bit.” Quietly, truth leaking from her lungs, she adds, “I need you.” She doesn’t know if Kara hears or not.

 

Kara’s arms stay stiff, but a shred of tension leaks from her quiet voice. “Okay.” Lena snuggles closer into her side. Kara’s heart pounds in her ear, the rhythm of refuge and an echo of the beat in her own chest.

 

— — —

 

Lena falls asleep in what feels like seconds but is probably much longer. Kara’s stewing in drunken appalled terror, too distracted to notice when Lena curls closer.

 

Why is it that every time she does this, something goes wrong?

 

Last time she’d flown to Lena’s apartment, her purpose had been clear: to come clean and tell Lena the truth. Then Lena had grabbed her cape and tugged her closer and, well…Kara’s not immune to the powers of Lena Luthor, and she’s _definitely_ not immune to a two-inch proximity to somebody she’s wanted to kiss for ages. And just like you can’t have dessert without dinner, she can’t kiss Lena without being dragged into touching her body or giving her an orgasm...

 

Goddamn it, she’d rather deal with Kryptonite than with this loss of willpower every time Lena’s around. At least then she know what’s up. With Lena, she loses her train of thought. Loses _control_ of logical thinking. All because she wants to protect — protect and help, but it seems she can’t even do that.

 

That’s the scary part. Lena’s surprised little “ow” still echoes in her ears. She’s never going to touch alcohol again, Kara decides. The risk is too great. Especially when Lena seems keen on wrecking her preconceived notions of their relationship status by telling her that she gets off thinking about Kara. How long has this been going on? She’s been coming home every Friday, touching herself while fantasizing about Supergirl?

 

Kara bites her lip. Kara Danvers had visited Lena two weeks ago on Friday. They’d gone out for lunch. Had Lena been thinking about her then? Had Lena gone home after that and thought about her? Maybe she hadn’t even waited until she got home. She’s clearly not against some stress relief during office hours.

 

Lena squirms closer, shifting so her nose pokes into Kara’s neck. She barely contains the giggle and reflexive shudder at the ticklish sensation. God, being drunk is the worst. Just a few seconds ago she’s despondent and now… now she really wants to wake Lena up and tell her all the wonderful things about her, like how adorable she is when she tries to be sexy. Or how amazing she is, fighting against the stigma of her surname. Or how she’s really cute when she’s looking through reports and her face does a scrunchy thing. Or how the fact that she wears socks to bed is weird but Kara likes her anyways.

 

She wants to wake Lena up and tell her all these things because her sober self sure as heck isn’t going to do it. After all, she’s got to tell Lena about her feelings eventually, right?

 

...oh, wait, no, that’s not the plan. The plan is to wait it out and let Lena make the move because she’s the one in charge of their situation right now. Okay, yeah, a good plan. And once they figure out they like each other they can date! And then Kara can say all the things she wants to say and buy Lena flowers and kiss her without feeling guilty and hold her hand. But not in public, because the press.

 

Maybe they can even live together, that would be really cool. And Kara could make pancakes for them on weekends and Lena would smile a lot and they’d be happy! She grins dopily and shifts closer to Lena.

 

Yes, this is a wonderful idea.

 

— — —

 

Lena wakes up sweating, bars of molten steel draped across her torso, a furnace roaring at her back. Squirming, she’s halfway out of that pit of lava when one of those bars of steel tightens around her waist. “Jesus Christ,” she grunts. How warm do Kryptonians normally run?

 

Kara's arms wrap back around her torso, nose poking into the back of Lena's neck. “Mmmm, Lena,” she mumbles, something else incomprehensible following after. Lena catches something about the DEO and pancakes. A grumpy noise. “Don’t go to work. There’s a statue in the street.”

 

Lena squirms around so she's facing Kara. “Darling,” she begins, then freezes. Friends with benefits don’t call each other pet names. “Supergirl,” she tries again. The word creeps up in her throat again, rising on the crest of a wave of affection. “Supergirl, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

 

Kara groans and curls tighter around Lena. “I don’t want that,” she mumbles. Then there’s a string of something that’s not English.

 

“Supergirl, wake up.” For a moment, Lena thinks she might have to resort to tickling to escape. Then — a grunt of displeasure.

 

“No.”

 

Lena laughs, uncontrolled amusement bubbling up in her chest. “I would love to stay in bed with you all day,” she says. “But I’m getting brunch with Kara Danvers in an hour, and —”

 

“I have to go!” Supergirl shoots up in bed, dislodging Lena from her arms. “I mean — uh, there’s a fire downtown, I should go.” She untangles herself from the blankets and Lena misses her warmth immediately. “I — you’re okay that we didn’t....that we didn’t have sex?” she asks.

 

Lena shrugs, smiling, unable to contain her amusement at Kara’s predicament. “I don’t mind. I like cuddling with you.”

 

A silly grin spreads across Kara’s face. “Okay.” She stands there, grinning.

 

Lena nudges her gently. “Don’t you have a fire to put out?”

 

Kara makes a comical face. She pauses in the doorway on her way out. “See you soon?”

 

Lena stretches lazily, smirking. Supergirl looks incredibly put-out to be leaving for her made up fire. She can’t wait to see how Kara pulls off their brunch. She winks, and Supergirl swallows with difficulty. “See you.”

 

— — —

 

When Kara’s late to their brunch dates, Lena often gives her the benefit of the doubt — she’s got people to save, places to be, a skin-tight super suit to change out of — and this time is no different. She’s only ten minutes late this time, hurrying into the restaurant with glasses askew and flushed cheeks. Lena stares as she hurries over. It’s a damn shame that Supergirl has those knee-high boots; Kara’s legs are to die for.

 

“Lena! Sorry I’m late, the bus got stuck in traffic and the guy wouldn’t let me off. Did you order already?” She sits down, fumbling with her glasses. Lena realizes she’s grinning like a fool and clears her throat, forcing the smile into something more platonic.

 

“Yes, your usual. Anything exciting happen on your Saturday morning?” Lena catches a faint whiff of smoke when Kara leans in. Perhaps there had been an actual fire after all.

 

Kara shrugs ambiguously, pushing a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “Nothing much. Oh! Alex mentioned a new movie — Hidden Figures? It’s all about African American women’s involvement in the space program, which I thought you’d like. Very feminist.” She does that hesitant grin again. “Would you like to come see it with me? Tomorrow? I know it’s kind of short notice.”

 

Lena takes a sip of water to conceal her smile. What’s this, Kara Danvers asking her out on a movie date? Of course not, she reasons. You told her about how you don’t like going to the movies for first dates. Obviously, it’s not a date. “It depends on what time.” She tries to remember her schedule tomorrow, finds it glaringly empty of actual obligation. Yet something still holds her back from saying yes.

 

“In the afternoon? Or the evening. We can go to dinner afterwards?” Kara’s eager, like how she usually is, but it’s tinged with a teenage hint of anxiety. Lena searches the request for something deeper. Is this going to be a mistake? Can she pull this off without tripping deeper down the rabbit hole? “Or we can do it some other time —”

 

“No, no, that works,” Lena reassures. “I was just thinking through what I had to do. I’d love to go see it with you.”

 

Kara beams and Lena realizes she’s made a terrible mistake. She can’t handle a movie and dinner with Kara when she’s supposed to be sleeping with her alter ego. What is this, a painfully embarrassing romcom? She’s setting herself up for failure.

 

“I’m so excited!” Kara gushes. “Alex said she would watch it when she had the time, but I know she really just wants to watch Logan with Maggie…” She spins off into a half-irritated, half-affectionate story about her sister’s love for Marvel and Lena watches her with a longing she can’t express.

 

This is going to be a problem.

 

— — —

 

She calls Alex on Sunday morning when the full reality of the situation hits her. “Alex! I have a problem! I need your help, I’m going to see a movie with Lena but I don’t know what to wear and I’m also 99 percent sure she has no idea I’m trying to ask her on a date—”

 

Alex sounds sleepy and Kara can hear the sound of coffee boiling in the background. “Whoa, whoa, slow down, breathe. You’re what with who?”

 

“I’m going to see Hidden Figures with Lena. I’m actually really surprised she agreed to it, because I know she’s usually got time reserved for herself on Sundays, but I’m so glad she did.” She pauses for breath like Alex had advised.

 

“I didn’t realize you had it this bad for her,” Alex drawls, amused. “I’ll be right back, Mags, Kara has girl problems!” she calls.

 

“Tell her good luck and use protection!” Kara hears faintly.

 

“Ew, gross, I’m not repeating that.”

 

Kara grins, but a thread of suspicion wiggles into her head. Does she need to use protection if she’s an alien? Dang. She’s going to have to ask somebody about that. “Thanks, Maggie!”

 

She hears the sound of keys as Alex locks the door. “All right, I’m on my way. Be right there.”

 

Kara’s closet is ransacked by the time Alex gets there. “I don’t understand,” she begins, shutting the door behind her. “Has Lena not seen you in clothes before?”

 

Kara is facedown on her bed, face pressed into the blankets. “She has,” she mumbles into the cloth. “But this is different. I — it was supposed be like, a _date_ thing, but I don’t think she got that part.”

 

“Did you use the word ‘date’ at all?”

 

“...Was I supposed to?”

 

“Jesus, Kara. When you arrest somebody, you tell them they’re being arrested. It’s the same thing when you ask somebody on a date! Or else things like this happen, and nobody knows what’s going on.”

 

“I didn’t know I had to read her her Miranda rights before asking her on a date,” Kara grouses. “God, I bet she thinks it’s just a platonic friend-date.”

 

Alex sits down on the bed, clearing a space among the clothes. “It’s okay, Kara. Listen, if you really want to date her, then let this be a trial run. See if you really work together, if you can hold a conversation.”

 

“I know we work together already! And we can talk for ages about literally _anything_ ,” Kara sighs. “But I guess it’s all right. It’s the only thing I can do, anyways.” She groans, spread-eagled on the mattress. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to do it again. Asking her out without _really_ asking her out was impossible enough. I might do better with reading her Miranda rights, actually.”

 

“You and me both, Kara.” Alex’s grin softens. “I didn’t realize you liked her this much. You haven’t really talked about her a lot.” The concern is clear, despite the deliberately light tone of her voice.

 

Kara hides her face in a t-shirt. If she does that, maybe Alex won’t be able to tell she’s lying. “I do. It’s just been busy, you know? And —” She hesitates. Will it be too much to play this card? It is based in truth, so it isn’t technically lying.... “I know how you feel about her being a Luthor. I didn’t want to bring it up, because…” Kara gives her sister a weak smile. “I do really like her. I didn’t want you to have anything else on your mind that you didn’t have to worry about. I know you and Maggie are still working some things out.”

 

Alex rolls her eyes, chuckling. “You are so annoying, sometimes, did you know? Come here.” She opens her arms and Kara eagerly falls into the hug. “I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t like her. I just don’t want you to get hurt. _Especially_ if you like her this much.”

 

“I know,” Kara mumbles. “I understand.” She hugs Alex just a little bit tighter. “You can make it better by helping me choose something to wear that’ll knock her socks off.”

 

Alex huffs, smiling. “I bet anything you wear will knock her socks off.”

 

Kara giggles into Alex’s shoulder. “Something to knock her underwear off, then?”

 

“Kara _Danvers_ — !”

 

— — —

 

Lena’s so distracted by Kara’s teasingly short skirt and the blouse that shows off her arms that she accidentally lets Kara pay for the tickets. She doesn’t even notice until they’re in the theater, tipped off by Kara’s sneaky grin. “Kara!” she exclaims, dismayed.

 

“My treat,” Kara insists, deftly dodging the bills that Lena tries to shove into her purse. “Seriously, Lena! Just let me enjoy reviving chivalry!” Lena lifts an elegant eyebrow. “You can pay for dinner,” Kara relents, sighing. “If you _really_ want to.”

 

Lena resists the urge to do a fist pump, putting the money away. “I don’t believe in chivalry,” she declares. “It’s all about equality.” Kara smiles at her, eyes twinkling, looking like she’s about to blurt out a confession of love. Lena’s heart does some medically impossible gymnastics in her chest and she scrambles to find something to say. “Are you getting popcorn?”

 

Kara blinks, smile only diminishing slightly. She looks over to the concessions, wrinkling her nose. “Well, I usually do. But I mean, if you’re paying for dinner…” She grins cheekily. “Don’t want to ruin my appetite, right?”

 

Lena shakes her head, smiling. “So much for chivalry.”

 

They come to an impasse over seating. Lena prefers top row, directly in the middle. “All the better to see with,” she explains.

 

“Are you Granny Wolf?” Kara teases. “Gonna eat me up next?”

 

Lena has to look away after that one, trying valiantly to keep inappropriate images from intruding on this very nice, innocent, _platonic_ excursion. “No,” she replies. “I just don’t like having to deal with popcorn rain and people’s shoes when you’re down in the middle.”  


Kara huffs. “Well, look, there aren’t even people up there right now. And how else are you going to get a full, immersive experience if you don’t sit in the middle? You don’t sit on top of the back of your couch when you watch movies at home, do you?”

 

Lena gives her a haughty look, barely managing to contain her smile as she tries to appear affronted. “I might.”

 

Kara’s unamused.

 

They compromise with the row second from the top. There are trailers playing for some animated movie that Lena doesn’t care for, although she enjoys Kara’s skepticism of the storyline. “Honestly, I don’t know who comes up with these things! I mean, if an animated baby in a suit can make millions, then I think it’s time for me to move to Hollywood.”

 

How can a human being be so cute? Well, scratch that, how is an...alien so cute? That doesn’t sound right. There’s a glow in Lena’s chest that pulses every time Kara smiles at her or gets overly excited or laughs or really, just, _exists_ **.** Which is kind of a problem, but, well. Then Lena’s laughing at something Kara’s saying and it’s really easy to just forget why exactly this golden feeling is anything remotely _similar_ to a problem.

 

When the movie starts, Lena tries, with varying degrees of success, to keep her mind off Kara. It helps that the movie is something she’s interested in — she wanted to be an astrophysicist when she was in middle school — but like with all things, Kara wins out eventually.

 

Her mind drifts to what ifs with startling immediacy. What if this _was_ a real date? She knows it’s _not_ , but it’s still addictive to imagine. Maybe Kara would hold her hand during the movie. Maybe they’d get popcorn and then do the classic move where they reach into the bucket at the same time (call her boring, but Lena’s weak for sappy romantic clichés). Or share a drink, that would be unnecessarily date-y. She glances down at Kara’s hand on the armrest and her own fingers twitch in response to the thought. Nope, that’s risky. She directs her attention back to the movie.

 

...Damn, Lena really wants to kiss her. Her lips look so nice, and they’d be so soft. She’d smell like pomegranates, from her chapstick. Just one kiss and Lena would be trapped forever, addicted to Kara’s mouth.

 

The thought reminds her of the story of Hades and Persephone. _You’re not a goddess,_ she reminds herself, _and this isn’t a Greek myth._ Plus, even if Kara represented the pomegranate of the underworld, what would represent Hades? Love?

 

_What a shitty metaphor._

 

What would happen if she did kiss Kara, though? If Lena just leaned over a little, just a little tiny bit — fuck, that’s not what she’s supposed to be doing. This isn’t what she’s supposed to be doing at all, dammit! What was the plan again?

 

Kara laughs at something on-screen and Lena forgets.

 

— — —

 

Lena’s definitely distracted during the movie, and it takes the entire two hours and seven minutes for Kara to confirm that she is, in fact, distracted by _Kara_ **.**

 

Her heartbeat is rather sedentary, breathing normal...until she glances over. It’s just little looks, side-eyeing, really, but Kara notices. It’s hard not to, when she hears Lena’s heartbeat increase. She sometimes stops breathing for a terrifyingly long moment, just staring at Kara — and then she’ll release her breath in a silent sigh before returning her attention to the movie. It perplexes Kara until she realizes what it might mean. Lena might like her. Like her _back_.

 

It’s hard to stop the smile that threatens to break out across her mouth. Lena might like her! Okay, sure, they’re sleeping together, so there has to be some sort of attraction there already. But this is Lena and _Kara_ _Danvers_ **,** not Lena and Supergirl. Half the city has a thing for Supergirl; that attraction isn’t particularly novel. But Lena being attracted to Kara Danvers? That’s news. That’s...that’s _promising_.

 

Lena remains distracted even after the movie. They discuss the film as they walk to the restaurant, but as soon as Kara starts talking, Lena drifts off, staring at her with a soft, affectionate smile. Kara wonders if Lena even realizes she’s staring. Is she doing this on purpose? It’s really nice to be so appreciated, but it’s distracting Kara as well. She’s trailed off several times in the middle of a sentence, forgetting English because of the way Lena’s looking at her. _How are we supposed to hold a proper conversation if we’re just staring dopily at each other?_ she wonders, amused.

 

The atmosphere changes as soon as they enter the restaurant. It’s a quaint little place, with mood lighting and little plants on the tables, the smell of rich spices and garlic in the air. Lena grows more withdrawn, turning their conversation to science. Kara knows that she’s feeling unsettled when she does that; it’s something to do with the stability of scientific knowledge that reassures Lena when her own feelings seem to be in question. Kara will gladly talk about Trappist-1 with Lena for hours (Kryptonians have already documented it; there’s life there) but this sudden change in mood worries her. She usually gets a little warning before Lena gets into one of these moods.

 

“Hey,” she murmurs, over their entree. Lena looks up at her, eyes inquisitive. “How was your day?”

 

A loose shrug that either means nothing’s happened or that Lena’s hiding something. “Rather uneventful, aside from the usual.” Her gaze sharpens, eyebrow flicking upwards. “Did you know the Enquirer is going bankrupt?”

 

Kara almost chokes on her water. “What?! Lena — what? Really?”

 

The Enquirer is a sleazy “news” outlet that’s guilty of plagiarism and various forms of assholery, and they’re generally hated throughout National City’s news organizations. It’s unfortunate then, that the paper has a strong, fanatic following that often keeps the Enquirer alive through sheer force of hatred for the other news outlets.

 

Lena inclines her head, enigmatic look flashing in her eyes. “They’ve been trying to get some support for investment with practically every big company in the city. They offered us quite a good deal.”

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I told them we weren’t looking to invest in news.” A teasing smile flickers across her lips. “Although you’re in my office enough to be our news branch.”

 

Kara splutters. “Well, I mean, Snapper knows I know you.” Her expression turns softly accusing. “And last time we sent somebody new, you sent her back crying.”

 

To her credit, Lena looks slightly apologetic. “They never ask good questions.” Her expression turns affronted. “She asked me what I was looking for in a _man_.”

 

Kara chuckles. “And what did you say?”

 

“I told her ‘I’m not looking for a man, so write that down.’ ” She smiles. “And then I asked her if she asked all the male CEOs that, or if my relationship status had any bearing on my ability to run a company. Then she somehow managed to imply that the only thing your readers cared about were my looks and who I planned to take to the next gala.” She tsks, shaking her head. “I _greatly_ prefer it when you come to interview me.” She accompanies this with a smirk, suggestiveness lingering in her gaze.

 

Kara scrambles for something to say, ducking her head. God, why does she keep smiling like this? Her cheeks hurt.

 

She’s saved from forming a coherent response when her phone jerks in spasms, vibrating loudly. “Oh, shoot.” It says Mike on the caller ID, and she frowns. “That’s weird.” She gives Lena an apologetic look. “I — is it all right if I take this? He doesn’t usually call me.”

 

Lena nods graciously. “Of course, go ahead.”

 

Kara picks up the phone, walking outside. “Mon-el, what do you need?”

 

“Oh hey, what’s up? You doing anything?”

 

She huffs. “I’m in the middle of something, actually.”

 

“Oh. Well, could we talk? Like, in person?”   


“ _Now_? Mon-el, I said I was doing something—”

 

“How about in half an hour? Does that work? It’ll be short, I promise, I just want to talk to you.”

  
Kara exhales heavily. Inside, she can hear Lena’s phone going off and Lena picking it up. “What is it?” she asks, sounding strangely desperate, anger coming a moment afterwards, like an afterthought.

 

Oh, Mon-el’s speaking. “—and I just wanted to clear things up. I think it would be better in person. It’ll be really quick, I promise. Half an hour?”

 

Kara tears her eyes away from Lena’s scowl. “Okay, we can talk in person, but—”  

 

“Great! Half an hour, I’ll see you at your apartment.” He hangs up. Kara’s phone case crunches in her hand.

 

“Rao,” she groans, brushing bits of plastic from her hands. Sue her for being a bad friend, but she really wants to spend more time with Lena. They might not see each other at all next week, with their busy schedules, and she honestly doesn’t know if she’ll be able to stop herself from daydreaming herself into insanity. “Darn it,” she sighs. Mon-el needs her for something. At least she did get to spend some time with Lena.

 

Lena’s expression is pained and apologetic when Kara returns to the table. “Kara, I’m really sorry, but there’s been some issue with one of our suppliers and it’s _really_ quite important —”

 

Kara gives her a quick, wry smile. “Would you believe it if I told you I had to go, too? My friend — Mike, the intern — he needs to talk to me about something.”

 

Lena sighs in relief. “Oh, I’m glad. Well” — she backpedals, realizing what she’s said — “I mean, not _glad_ **,** but I’d feel terrible for ditching you. You’re sure?” She waves the waiter over, eyes pure and concerned.

 

“Yeah, it’s fine, it happened to work out. Do you want — how are you getting home?” Kara almost offers to fly her home before realizing she’s not supposed to be Supergirl right now.

 

“Oh, my driver’s coming to get me.” Lena pushes the unfinished portion of her food into a takeout box. “Do you need a ride? Your apartment isn’t too far out of the way.”

 

Kara opens her mouth, trying to think of what to say. “I think I’m going to take the bus, actually,” her mouth says. “I don’t want to be a bother.” That’s only partially true. Truthfully, if Lena drives Kara home, she might do something stupid like kiss her goodnight or say something too emotional and she can’t trust herself. She has to quit while she’s ahead. “Really, Lena, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,” she continues, knowing Lena’s already queuing up more ‘are you sure?’s and ‘it won’t be a bother, really’s. She gives Lena a broad, genuine smile, waving her off. “Go, take care of your important CEO things.”

 

“Thank you, Kara. For tonight. I really enjoyed it.” Lena looks like she wants to say more, and Kara tenses in anticipation. Lena’s phone buzzes, and she sighs. “My driver’s here.” Her eyes meet Kara’s, subtly insinuating, and Kara grins, opening her arms for a hug.

 

“Next time?” She has to admit that she does a pretty good job of letting go of Lena after the hug, despite every cell in her body begging her not to.

 

Lena shoots her that soft, beautiful smile. “Next time.”

 

— — —

 

She flies back home, conflicted between wondering what Mon-el needs and Lena’s behavior. She’s never seen Lena so... _enraptured_ , yet distant. It’s like she’s struggling to choose between two emotions. Kara doesn’t know what’s going on behind those emerald eyes; sometimes she feels like she never will. Lena’s enigmatic at best and downright cryptic at worst. There are times when even Kara, with her people-reading skills and penchant for knowing ‘exactly what to do’, can’t even begin to figure out what Lena’s thinking. She may be contemplating particle physics or L Corp or recalling some factoid about her favorite TV show that she’s been saving to tell Kara. It’s a toss up for anything, really, which is why Kara’s still hesitant to ask Lena on a date. A real one.

 

There’s just...something off. From the soft smiles to the science talk, everything Lena’s done has been juxtaposed with each other, the emotions behind her eyes slightly disjointed. Kara can’t figure out what’s going on. Lena... _likes_ her, right? She does. That’s the only plausible explanation behind those sweet smiles and the lingering glances. Right?

 

Kara sighs, stepping out of the elevator. This is confusing, people are confusing, emotions are confusing. She finally understands why “it’s complicated” is an option on Facebook.

 

“Kara!”

 

She resists the urge to sigh. Here come more complications. She forces a smile onto her face. “Mon-el. Hey. What’s so important that you had to interrupt my night?” Okay, whoa, that was sharper than she intended.

 

Mon-el’s eyebrows scrunch up, cocking his head to one side. There’s a little smile, a joking smile, on his face. “Why, were you on a date?”

 

And it wasn’t a date, not in terminology or classification or any way at all, but Kara’s still bitter (salty, as the kids say) about cutting it short and her mouth moves before she has time to think about it. “Yes, actually. I was.”

 

He stops short. Clearly, that’s not the answer he’d been expecting. “..Oh. That’s...yeah, that’s cool, I didn’t know you were dating around.” A casual shrug and that strange tone comes into his voice. Kara’s heard it before. That’s the possessive tone, the one where the guy feels slighted for not being involved in every aspect of a woman’s life. Normally she deals with that well. A gentle but firm shut down coupled with a firm friends-only vibe for the rest of eternity seems to work so far. Problem is, she’s just come from talking feminism with Lena for a good few hours and she just doesn’t have the patience for it.

 

“My dating life isn’t any of your business,” she informs him, moving around to unlock the door. “What did you need?”

 

“I mean, I hope he was nice. You never know, some guys are just” — he makes a face — “sketchy. Was he nice? Did he pay for your meal?”  

 

Kara huffs, almost bending her key. “I am _not_ having this conversation with you, Mon-el. What did you need to talk to me about?”

 

He holds his hands up, as if to attempt to ward off her growing anger. “No, no, it’s fine. Never mind.”

 

Kara stares at him. “Wha— you can’t just call me and say we need to talk and then change your mind! I was in the middle of something!”

 

“It’s fine!” He backs away, hands still up. “It’s all good! Never mind. Have a good night!”

 

“You can’t — Mon-el!” He’s gone.

 

Kara feels the doorknob soften in her fist and she pulls away to see distinct fingerprints in the metal. She’s never been one to curse, at least in English, but it seems appropriate just about now. “Fucking hell,” she mutters, letting her forehead thud against the door. “ _Dammit_.”

 

She texts Lena to make sure she’s gotten home safe as soon as she gets the marks in the doorknob slightly smoothed out, tossing her purse onto the table and flopping face-first onto the couch. Lena makes her feel things. Big things. If that wasn’t a date, then how will Kara survive a Real Date? Lena smiles at her and her heart does strange flip-floppy things that are — _alarming_ **,** to say the least. Anatomically concerning at the most.

 

This would be all well and fine, she decides, if Supergirl and Lena weren’t sleeping together. She might as well just write a pilot for a comedy show. Netflix would gobble it up.

 

She’s got to stop one of these things, and it isn’t having friend-dates. Screw waiting. She has to come clean to Lena and tell her all the secrets. Something along the lines of:

 

“Hey, I’m Supergirl and I meant to ask you out on a date but I don’t think I used the word date at all so it was more of a platonic thing? Which is weird because we’ve been sleeping together. Do you think we could just...mash those two up? Make it easy? Because I really like you and I really meant to tell you earlier but, um, you’re really hot and sometimes I forget how to think logically when you exist.”

 

...That would go over well.

 

Kara yells into the pillow. “Fuck!” Wow, that’s actually quite a good curse word. Feels cathartic. She tries again, quieter, but with just as much feeling. “Fuck.” Versatile, too. Maybe she’ll use it more often.

 

She hears her phone vibrate and jerks up, scrambling to see it. Kara concocts a plan as she texts out her reply to Lena.

 

This week. She’s going to tell Lena sometime this week. She has a plan: ask Lena to hang out as Kara Danvers, take her back to the apartment probably, and then spill all the secrets.

 

She’s going to have to practice this in front of a mirror, just like the first time they went out to lunch together. “It’s okay, Kara,” she reassures herself. “You got this. You got this.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the whole “asking people out on a date without actually specifying it as a date” all comes from personal experience. It went much worse than Kara’s not-date. Yikes. 
> 
> let me know what you thought @feveredreams.tumblr.com
> 
> comments, criticisms, unintelligible gay screaming, I'll take it all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the update time because I get excited about posting new chapters and can't wait until Sundays. So here, have an early one! I'll be updating Friday from now on.

 

One of the greatest inevitable things in Kara’s life is not being able to keep secrets from Alex. Keeping secrets from anybody else? She’s the Fortress of Solitude. Impenetrable. It’s a source of pride, this steadfastness about other people’s secrets that aren’t hers to tell and about her own secrets that don’t need to be told. 

 

And then Alex. Alex, who doesn’t even know there’s a secret being kept from her, gives Kara a look and Kara gives in without a fight. 

 

It’s Wednesday night and they’re talking about Lena — a common topic now, it seems. Alex is poking through Kara’s fridge, evaluating her ice cream options, as she grills Kara for more information about Lena. “Does she have flannel shirts? What kind of music does she listen to?” She grabs the tub of chocolate chip cookie dough. “Does she like Hayley Kiyoko?” 

 

Kara makes vague noises into her plate. “I dunno, we didn’t really talk about music,” she mumbles. “We talked about science and space.”

 

Alex hums contemplatively. “Space can be gay.” She plucks a spoon from the drawer. “When are you going to ask her on an actual date, then? It seems like you two are getting along just fine.”

 

Kara folds her fingers into the blanket that’s covering her, worrying the cloth. She finally settles with, “I can’t.” 

 

“Why not?” 

 

Kara stares down at her lap. “I’ve...been sleeping with her.” She swallows. “As Supergirl.” 

 

Alex stares at her from across the counter. “You’ve been what.” 

 

“She called me,” Kara mumbles, shoulders hunched. “I _know_ it’s stupid and I shouldn’t have done it, but _she_ wants it. She asked me” — and here she gets choked up because Lena can’t just like her for the sex, right? — “to be friends with benefits.” 

 

“And you said yes.” Alex murmurs, not unkindly. 

 

Kara gives a small, tiny nod. 

 

“And she doesn’t know you’re Supergirl.” Alex jabs her spoon into the ice cream as she thinks. “You have to tell her.” 

 

“I know! But she’s been so stressed, and I know for a fact that she’s using me — Supergirl — as stress relief. I don’t want to add  _ more _ stress to her life.” Kara’s voice softens. “And I don’t know what she’s going to do when she finds out I’ve been keeping secrets from her.”

 

She’s seen Lena’s cold, imperial fury before, directed at an employee caught trying to sabotage her. Kara doesn’t want to be on the other end of that burning anger. She wants even less to be a recipient of Lena’s disappointment or — at the worst — betrayal. 

 

“She’ll understand,” Alex reassures her, ice cream tub thumping down onto the coffee table as she falls onto the couch. Kara squirms into her arms. “She’s not stupid, she’ll understand why you had to do it.” 

 

“I don’t want to,” Kara mumbles. “She’s been avoiding me. Kara Danvers me. Every time I fly by her office, she looks so tired, so frazzled…” She buries her face in Alex’s shoulder. “I know that I can help her feel better as Supergirl, at least. I don’t know if I can be what she needs as Kara Danvers.” 

 

Alex strokes her hair. “Kara, you can’t keep this from her forever. I think, if she really does like you, then you’ll be exactly what she needs.”

 

“I don’t know how to tell her. What if she doesn’t like me? What if she likes Supergirl better?” Her voice grows even quieter, and Alex has to strain to hear her. “Alex, I don’t want to lose her. I can’t risk it.” 

 

“Okay,” Alex murmurs, knowing that Kara’s dread of losing people outweighs almost everything else. “I know. Take it a little at a time, then. Figure out exactly how she feels about Kara Danvers. She may be hiding it from you, because she’s probably scared, too.” Kara hums, not sounding convinced. “Lena’s not the kind of person to really show her affection, right? She’s afraid of being hurt.” 

 

“I know it’s going to hurt when I tell her,” Kara whispers, distressed. “What if she doesn’t trust me anymore? I never —” Her words are choked off. “If I wait longer, it’s going to be even worse. But I don’t want to.” 

 

“Baby steps,” Alex reminds. “Visit her this afternoon.” She smiles, gentle at the corners. “I sincerely doubt that she likes Supergirl more than Kara Danvers. I’ve seen the way she smiles at you. It’s like you put the sun in the sky.”

 

Kara laughs, sniffling. “Thanks, Alex.” 

 

— — — 

 

It’s a big problem. 

 

Lena’s very good at avoiding people. It comes with the territory when your mother is out to criticize your every step and second of existence. It’s a skill she’s perfected and put to use far more than she’d like, and now she’s using it against the one person she never thought she would — sweet, kind Kara Danvers. 

 

Through no fault of Kara’s own, of course. This is, like always, a difficulty that Lena’s imposed upon herself. It’s her own fault, for falling so quick and fast that she’d given herself vertigo. It’s not every day Lena meets Supergirl pretending valiantly to be an innocent not-reporter, and it’s not every day that she dives headfirst into a crush of epic proportions. Leave it to her to make everything even more spectacular and combine the two. 

 

She’s not supposed to fall for Supergirl. Or Kara Danvers, really. She’s not supposed to have feelings that are tied to happy-ever-afters; her last name guarantees pain and suffering and hatred. Not happiness, nor friendship. 

 

Which is why she’s avoiding Kara like the plague. 

 

They had gone to see the movie. Well, Kara had gone to see the movie. Lena had gone to dig herself deeper into a Kara-shaped hole and to tie her emotions into a complicated, confusing Celtic knot. How is it that her self-imposed regulations are always neutralized when Kara’s around? Her will is strong — strong enough to resist eating luxurious Belgian chocolate when she’s on her diet, strong enough to keep herself from tearing into every misogynistic creep that works at her company — but there’s just no accounting for Kara Danvers. As soon as Kara’s within sight, Lena forgets everything she’s supposed to be doing. 

 

Supposed to be acting friendly? Nope. She’s going to keep staring at Kara with a little-too-adoring look in her eyes. Supposed to be keeping things to herself? Nope. Spill all her secrets (and more!) without Kara even asking. Supposed to be keeping her feelings at bay? Don’t even get her  _ started _ . 

 

At least it had ended before Lena had a chance to really blow things up. For once, she’s glad that being the CEO means emergencies at all hours of the day and a spin-the-wheel of possible crisis situations to deal with. 

 

There’s nothing like a lovely blend of panic and jealousy to end the night strong. Panic, because Lena’s failing at her one job (quit falling for Kara Danvers!!) and jealousy because how dare “Mike of the interns” interrupt their time together? Where exactly does he rank on Kara’s list of important people in comparison to Lena? Obviously not high, if Kara’s disgruntled expression is anything to go off of. But of course, Lena’s not supposed to be jealous. She’s just...a friend. Friends don’t get jealous of potential boyfriends. Even if said potential boyfriend doesn’t seem worthy of Kara (the list of people who deserve the joy and love that is Kara is short; Lena’s not on that list either). 

 

She’d hurried home, trying to forget Kara’s goodbye hug. Lena had gone in for the hug and Kara had glanced down — just slightly, barely noticeable, a reflex more than anything — at Lena’s mouth. 

 

She ran. Practically hightailed it out of there. She can kiss Supergirl when they’re just pretending to be friends with benefits, just invested in each others’ bodies and pleasure and nothing else. Sex is simple, easy, no strings attached. A relationship is messy, complicated, and far too dangerous for the both of them. More for Kara, really, because she doesn’t know how badly Lena is broken. 

 

And the worst part?

 

It’s painfully, cruelly  _ easy _ to avoid Kara. She asks to meet on Wednesday afternoon but Lena almost succumbs to a panic attack simply at the possible disaster of it and says no. Kara’s too kind, too accepting and generous with her “it’s ok!” and “maybe next time?” texts, with her springy resoluteness in the face of Lena’s reluctance. Lena almost wants it to be harder, to prove that Kara feels the same way, but she adamantly insists on being chivalrous and understanding. It’s a double-edged sword of speculation: either Kara doesn’t feel the same because she never pushes, or she does feel the same because she never pushes. 

 

This is why Lena doesn’t do feelings. 

 

She avoids, ignores, conceals, dodges emotions like an emotive ninja — more skills she’s learned from her childhood. It would be easy with Kara if it weren’t for the fact that Lena’s sleeping with her alter ego. It doesn’t help that Supergirl manages to pretend like nothing’s going on when they sleep together. 

 

Things come to a head on Thursday. 

 

Murphy’s law comes into full effect, casting a curse over her office. She spills her coffee on her laptop. A power outage caused by malfunctioning breakers lead to a discovery that somebody’s stealing power from L Corp. A subsequent police investigation. A massive argument with the misogynistic asshole of a R&D director. She breaks a heel. Her replacement laptop won’t come until Monday so she goes out to get a crappy one from Best Buy, wearing weird flats that are too small. Then she gets the wrong order from the delivery guy for lunch. 

 

That’s the last straw. 

 

She glares at the offensive fried squid in her takeout box. Her feet hurt. She either wants to cry or scream or hit something, perhaps all three at once. Jess walks in, takes one look at her expression and backs out of the office. “I’m canceling the rest of your day,” she calls out as she backpedals. “Go home!” 

 

Lena doesn’t even argue. 

 

She storms into her apartment and immediately changes into gym clothes. She wants to punch things. The punching bag is still set up from a few weeks ago in her personal gym, one floor below her penthouse. Hair tied up, hands wrapped, her stuff hasn’t even hit the floor before her fist slams into the punching bag. 

 

“FUCK!” she shouts. That hurts; she’s forgotten proper form. She settles into a boxing stance and throws some quick jabs at the bag. It sways slightly under the force of her blows. More curses flow from her mouth like an undammed river, directed at her R&D director, at the delivery boy whose fault it wasn’t but gets some cussing just because, at herself, at the universe. She assaults the bag, batters it, gives it a beatdown until she’s breathing hard and her hair’s in her face. 

 

Sweat drips down the small of her back. She’s still furious, if not a bit exhausted. She pulls her foot back and lashes out recklessly, releasing a wild kick at the stand of the punching bag. The heavy, made-out-of-metal stand. Sharp agony jolts up her foot. “ _ Motherfucking shit-eating asshole _ —” God _ damn _ , that hurts! She hops around on one foot, cursing. 

 

Her eye catches on the windows. 

 

The gym has some spacious, floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire wall, affording her a fantastic, expensive view of National City. Right now, though, she’s only got eyes for the amused, windswept superhero on the other side of the glass. 

 

“Supergirl?” She forgets her foot (it feels broken, she’s an idiot, god it hurts) and quits her hopping. Supergirl gives her a grin from the other side and disappears. Lena hopes she left the window unlocked in her apartment. 

 

She did. In the time it takes for Lena to remove her shoe and certify that no, her foot isn’t broken, she’s just a wimp, Supergirl’s boots are echoing on the concrete floor. “Bad day?” she asks, taking in the gym. “Anybody I need to disappear?” 

 

Lena laughs wryly. Supergirl’s expression doesn’t change. Lena stops laughing. “You’re serious.” 

 

“So, yes?” 

 

Lena shakes her head, a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth like an insistent child tugging at their mother’s skirt. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Today was just…” She huffs, pushes her sweaty hair behind her ear. “Everything went wrong that could. I needed to unwind.” 

 

Supergirl hums in understanding, walking over to examine the weights by the wall. “You box?” She picks up the fifty-pound disc with ease, like picking up a pizza. Lena squints at her. 

 

“....Kind of. Just for the release, really.” Kara sets the weight down, amused expression at the innuendo, and Lena blurts, “How much can you lift?” 

 

The smile that flickers across Kara’s face is strange, like she’s proud but trying not to show it. “A lot,” she deflects, and immediate curiosity flares up in Lena’s chest.

 

“All those weights at once?” Kara looks offended. “This punching bag?” She walks over and lifts it easily before setting it back down. Lena tries to lift it; she can’t even get it off the ground. “Okay…” All of a sudden her heart feels lighter than air, helium-filled. “Me?” 

 

A wry, cocky grin hangs on the corner of Kara’s mouth. “Easily,” she murmurs, arms extended. “May I?” 

 

Lena nods, breathless, and then she’s swept up in powerful arms, bridal style. A gasp slips out of her mouth unbidden and Kara’s grinning down at her, looking heroic and annoyingly attractive, so Lena just — leans up and kisses her. 

 

It’s painfully, cruelly easy to kiss Supergirl. Now that there aren’t any boundaries between them — no pretense of simple amiability, no simmering sexual tension that they both ignore — Lena begins to embrace the ease with which she can close the distance between them. Kara leans down to meet her, noses smushing awkwardly, and a giggle slips from her mouth. Lena reaches up to sink her fingers into golden hair. “You smell good,” she mumbles. 

 

“Thanks,” Kara husks, hands warm on Lena’s arm and thigh. Her fingers press searing marks that Lena feels will be there forever. She pulls away reluctantly, a smirk on her face. “You stink.” 

 

Lena barks out a laugh, startled at her brashness. “You sure know how to woo a girl,” she remarks dryly. She raises an eyebrow. “We can continue this in the shower, if you want.” 

 

Kara makes an ambiguous hum, setting Lena back down on the ground. “That would be nice.” She puts her hands on her hips, that classic Supergirl stance, and cocks her head to the side. “What equipment do you use the most?” 

 

Lena looks around the gym, a bit puzzled by the strange question. “Uh, probably the treadmill? Or the chest press.” Kara examines them both. 

 

“Go sit on the chest press.” That’s a new tone of voice Lena’s only ever heard directed at police officers and firefighters — it’s Supergirl’s commanding voice, when she tells people what to do and they listen. She’s no different. She follows orders, settling into the chair. 

 

The machine is a seat with two bars hanging in front of it, padded and just slightly tilted back. She usually doesn’t have anybody to spot her for bench pressing, so she makes do with this instead. Kara looks her up and down, glint in her eye. “Have you shaved today?” she asks, playful. 

 

Lena swallows. “I have,” she says, voice thick. 

 

“Good girl.” Kara drops to her knees and low groan escapes Lena’s mouth. A dirty smirk graces Kara’s lips. “You like me on my knees, hmm?” Lena nods, biting her lip. She doesn’t trust her vocal chords to work right now. Kara’s hands smooth across Lena’s thighs. “Kinky.” 

 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Lena finds herself saying, and Kara pauses from settling between Lena’s spread legs. 

 

“Oh?” Kara sits back on her haunches, wicked curiosity gleaming in her blue eyes. “Do tell.” 

 

Lena reaches out, runs her hands through Kara’s hair. She leans into the touch, gaze never leaving Lena’s. Lena flicks through her mental filing cabinet of fantasies, trying to find one vanilla enough for the current moment. “I’ll start small.” She settles on some softcore stuff, basic power play that never fails. “I want you to tell me what to do,” she explains. She tilts her chin up. “Control me.” 

 

Kara nudges a kiss against the inside of Lena’s wrist. Her gaze is dark, like the indeterminate depths of the ocean or the night sky. “Of course. Safeword?” 

 

Lena hesitates. The word comes easily; she’s thought through this before. But now, with Supergirl actually here, between her legs, waiting on her with those dark azure eyes… “Kryptonite.” 

 

Something flickers through Kara’s eyes, like the brief spark of light glinting off a school of fish, and then it’s gone. “Don’t hesitate to use it if you’re uncomfortable,” Kara tells her. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

 

“Yes. Of course.” Lena nods quickly. Impatience bursts through her alongside a pulse of arousal. “Are we done talking?”

 

Amusement, disapproval, and something dangerous glints in Kara’s gaze. She pauses, formulating her response. “Don’t be cheeky,” she growls, after some deliberation. Looks like they’re jumping straight in. “Hands on the bars.” Lena grips the rubber, fingers flexing around the grips. Kara straightens up from her position between Lena’s legs, faces level. She’s too far away to kiss properly, which is displeasing. “I’m going to start slow,” she murmurs, eyes never leaving Lena’s. “Tell me what feels good.” 

 

Her hands slide under Lena’s tank top, heated skin against heated skin. Lena shivers a little, not quite wanting Kara to take off her shirt. The first time they’d slept together, she hadn’t had enough presence of mind to even be self-conscious of her body. That time had been fast and breathless and a rush of want, no time to feel shame at the softness of her thighs or the chubbiness of her belly. This time is slower, deliberate, and Kara — Kara, with her abs of steel and perfect musculature — is there looking at her with hungry eyes and Lena doesn’t want to take her shirt off. 

 

Kara senses her indecision and pauses, concern evident in every careful movement of her hands. “Is this okay?” 

 

Lena laughs a little, trying to defuse her jittery nerves. “Uh, yeah. I just” — she waves her hands at Kara’s body, trying to convey the notion without actually saying anything — “you, uh, look like that. I feel a little…” She doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t like admitting this self-doubt. But she really doesn’t want to take her shirt off. She can feel blood rushing to her cheeks. “.. _ inadequate _ .” 

 

Kara stares at her like she’s got a second head growing out of her shoulder. “Lena!” she exclaims, distressed. “I’m an alien, you can’t compare yourself to me. Have you even looked in a mirror?” She splutters, incredulous and comically speechless. “You — Aphrodite would be jealous! You know when you go places, people stare? I’m not kidding, I saw somebody walk into a wall when you walked by.” She doesn’t mention that it’s a personal experience of hers. “You have no need to feel inadequate about your body. I think you’re  _ beautiful _ .” 

 

Lena drags in a shuddering breath. Her face burns. Kara’s words hit hard, harder than she thought they would. “Still,” she mutters. “I don’t like it.” She looks down at the floor. “Could you not — can I keep my shirt on?” 

 

Kara nods and Lena hates the gentle understanding in her eyes because it makes her _feel_ things that she shouldn’t. “Of course.” She leans in, drops a tiny kiss at the corner of Lena’s mouth and doesn’t let her have more, turning her attention to the soft pale skin of her neck. Lena scowls weakly. She wants more kisses. “Patience, Lena.” Kara mumbles, nibbling lightly down her neck, fingernails scratching and working pleasurably at her scalp. 

 

She feels like she might melt, face still heated from embarrassment and warming now from arousal. God, she hates this, hates feeling inadequate, but it’s so hard not to when the woman on her knees before her is a literal goddess, a sculpted statue of perfection. She pushes the thoughts away, trying to focus on the sensations of Kara working her way down her neck slowly, speckling kisses over every inch of skin. 

 

“You are beautiful,” Kara mumbles. “So gorgeous. Stunning.” Her palms graze Lena’s breasts, hovering. “Is it okay if I touch you?” She looks up, gaze cerulean bright, clear and nothing but adoration, and Lena feels like she might cry. 

 

“Yes,” she whispers instead. “Yes.” 

 

Kara slips her hand under Lena’s shirt, tugs her sports bra up. Her fingertips are hot against Lena’s skin. She’s so sensitive when Kara touches her like this — purely affectionate, worshipful, like every action, movement and touch is sacred— and the first brush of a fingertip across her nipple is enough to make her cry out. Kara pauses and Lena aches for more. “Are you —” 

 

“Yes,” Lena breathes, arching her back. Kara’s touch is oxygen and she’s suffocating right now. “Yes, I’m fine, keep going.” 

 

Kara smiles softly and scrapes her teeth across Lena’s pulse, leaving bursts of hot desire along with her open-mouthed kisses. “I like your body. It’s my favorite.” Lena can see the slight jerk upwards of her eyebrow. “And I’ve seen lots of bodies.” 

 

“Makes you sound like a serial killer,” Lena gasps. She wants to say more, perhaps tease Kara for her borderline-fetish for Lena’s breasts, but then — Kara pushes her bra up, tugs her shirt aside slightly, and that warm, wet mouth is on her chest — she experiences temporary aphasia. Why make fun of something you’re benefiting from? She grips the bars tightly. “Fuck, I love your mouth.” Kara kisses the underside of her breasts, leaves little stinging nips on the soft flesh, and her tongue — Lena squirms in her seat, lower half feeling neglected. “ _Supergirl_.” The sound of her own voice is foreign, airy and half-desperate. “Quit teasing.”

 

“You’re not really in a position to make demands, Ms. Luthor,” Kara reprimands, hands spreading Lena’s thighs, thumbs dipping tantalizingly low. “Of course, I could just stop. Let you take care of yourself, and then I won’t tease.” She pauses, letting Lena realize that she’s not kidding. 

 

“No,” Lena exhales. “No, don’t. I’ll — I’ll be good.” The words slip out and she grimaces, expecting Kara to poke fun at her porno lines. She doesn’t. Instead, she rewards Lena with a long, lingering kiss that leaves her breathless. 

 

“I like the sound of that,” Kara murmurs, pulling away. “Let’s get these off.” She tugs at Lena’s yoga pants. It’s a bit difficult when Kara’s between her legs, so Lena raises her legs. Kara moves at the same time and Lena’s heel skids off the ground — and glances off Kara’s chin. 

 

“Oh, shit,” Lena exclaims, clapping a hand to her mouth. Kara blinks. She looks like she’s just blindsided. “I’m so sorry,” Lena manages between giggles, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to kick you.” 

 

Kara struggles valiantly to contain a smile, but Lena can see right through her. “Thanks but no thanks,” she drawls, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Feet don’t really do it for me.” She tugs at Lena’s panties. “Mind if I just rip these? I don’t want to be assaulted again.” 

 

Lena huffs as if annoyed, but if anything, the idea of Supergirl ripping her clothes off is one of the hottest things she’s ever had the privilege of experiencing. “Fine.” The fabric rips easily under her fingers, scraps of cotton tossed away. “That’s hot,” Lena mutters, almost embarrassed at how wet she is. 

 

“I’ll get you another pair,” Kara mumbles, pressing hot kisses along the inside of Lena’s thighs. 

 

“That’s — not necessary,” Lena stumbles over her words. “I can afford another pair of underwear.” 

 

Kara looks up at her, cocks an eyebrow. Lena’s hips jerk forward. “Who says it’s only going to be one pair?” Lena bites her lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Kara’s smirk smooths out into a gentler smile. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?” 

 

Lena nods sharply. She understands that Kara’s just being caring, but she needs to be touched like,  _ yesterday _ . “I will.” 

 

Kara’s fingers dip into her slickness and Lena sighs, trembling. Finally. “Rao, I love how wet you are,” Kara remarks, voice low. Lena looks down, and Kara’s gazing between her legs like she might divine the secret of the universe there, fingers dragging through her folds. Lena can’t help the moan; she feels bare to the bone under Supergirl’s burning gaze, every atom of her body splayed open and on display. “Beg for me,” Kara commands, and Lena blinks, jarred out of her haze of pleasure. 

 

“What?” She could just reach down, wind her fingers into that pretty hair and tug Kara’s head down to where she needs it. Lena doesn’t need to beg. She’ll do it on her own terms. 

 

Kara levels a calm, steady gaze at her. “You want me to eat you out? Ask nicely.” 

 

Kara’s never  _ asked _ her to beg before. Lena begs because she  _ wants _ to; it’s a choice, to do so without being ordered to. This is novel, and it’s hard to deny that the thought sends spirals of sparks down her spine. “Please,” she tries, weakly, tonelessly. Kara is unimpressed. The words stick in Lena’s throat painfully. Luthors aren’t told to beg, they demand and intimidate and get what they want without bending the slightest bit. That lesson still clings to the inside of her skull. 

 

“I need better than that,” Kara smirks. “I know you can do better.” 

 

Lena understands, logically, that this is exactly what she asked for. A loss of control, a release from responsibility; she just needs to say please. She’s done it before, asked between moans for more, for Kara to fuck her harder. So why is this so hard? 

 

Kara’s fingers stroke her gently and Lena hates the whine that slips from her throat. She can imagine what her mother would think — seeing her daughter strung to pieces under Kara’s hands, completely at the mercy of the Luthors’ sworn enemy — and that’s enough to make her mind. 

 

“Please, Supergirl,” she pleads, voice cracking. “Please, I need you,  _ please _ , fuck me —” 

 

“Good girl,” Kara praises. Then she puts her mouth on Lena.

 

It’s a symphony of bliss; her body tenses and relaxes under the sweet ministrations of Kara’s tongue, obscene, needy sounds drawn from her mouth with each long, powerful lick. Kara’s tongue is — well, damn, it’s the stuff of legends — fantastic, phenomenal, utterly sinful. She starts slow but learns Lena quickly, the sensitive spot just inside of her (“fuck, yes, right there”) , the way she likes it when there’s just a tiny bit of teeth (“oh god, yes,  _ yes _ ”). 

 

“More,” Lena begs, and Kara hums in response. The vibrations tip her over a cliff she didn’t even see and she cries out as she comes, right hand burying itself in Kara’s hair. Tension locks all her muscles, head tipping back, thighs clamped around Kara’s head. “Oh, fuck,  _ Supergirl… _ ” Throbbing waves of pleasure drown her. Kara doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even take a breath. She pulls another orgasm out of Lena with ease, nose nudging at her clit, and then Lena yanks her up for a sloppy, wet kiss as she rides her orgasm out on Kara’s fingers. 

 

“Good?” Kara asks, mumbling against Lena’s mouth. 

  
“Fantastic,” Lena breathes, resting her forehead against Kara’s. The sight of her own arousal smeared on Kara’s face is an unexpectedly erotic sight. “Where did Supergirl learn to eat a girl out like that?” 

 

A cheeky grin. “The Internet.” 

 

Lena stares at her. “No way.”

 

“Way.”

 

“ _ No way. _ ”

 

“I’m not kidding. Why, was it better than everybody else you’ve had?” 

 

Lena makes a face. “Well. You were my first.” 

 

Kara jerks back, surprised. “Your  _ very _ first?” 

 

“First person to eat me out,” Lena clarifies. “I’ve had sex before. My first time was heterosexual and very disappointing.” 

 

Kara snickers and lifts Lena up from the seat. Lena wraps her legs around Kara’s waist, shivering at the cool material of her suit against her skin. “Well, I’m glad to know that I’ve improved your opinion of sex.” She carries Lena over to the locker rooms, setting her down on the cold tiles. “I can clean up the gym. Take a shower.”

 

— — — 

 

Kara  _ tries _ . 

 

She really does. She asks Lena to meet up and then suggests they go out for a quick lunch. She’s shot down on both counts, however gently Lena attempts to do it. And then a visit to L Corp for a “quick interview” had been met with Jess’ unamused, “Ms. Luthor isn’t here right now. Would you like me to take a message?”, spoken in a tone of voice that suggested that she was not above taking Kara’s message and ripping it up as soon as the elevator doors closed. And that’s even more worrying, because Jess is like a thermometer to Lena’s moods. If she’s acting standoffish to Kara, then Lena must be acting strangely and Jess had guessed Kara was the reason. 

 

Kara Danvers has no luck, and it seems like her chances of getting out of this emotionally unscathed are shrinking. Thursday afternoon brings a lull in her workload and she takes the chance to go assist some firefighters with a grease fire and drop by Lena’s office. 

 

The CEO isn’t there, but Kara can hear her heartbeat thumping fast and hard in the general direction of her apartment. At first worry, like a broken sink tap, gushes into her chest and worst case scenarios flash past her mind’s eye like a slideshow: Lena kidnapped; fighting for her life; poisoned; tied up and tortured. 

 

Then she listens more carefully and realizes that she’s not in life-threatening danger. She’s just exercising. Which some might say  _ is _ a life-threatening danger, but that’s a different matter. 

 

Kara zips right over and finds Lena in a gym she’s never noticed before, going after a punching bag like she’s out for blood. It’s simultaneously impressive and concerning. Lena’s not a violent person, not one to solve her problems with punching things (that’s Kara’s job, generally) so it must be something that’s really bothering her. Kara hovers outside the window for a good while, torn between what to do. Kara Danvers doesn’t seem wanted at the moment, however much that hurts. Supergirl might have to do the job instead. 

 

And as Kara watches, Lena gets a spectacularly bad idea and launches a fierce kick at the metal stand of the punching bag. Kara can hear her cursing even more then she was before, which is saying a lot. And then she looks up and sees Kara. 

 

It’s hard to see the expression on Lena’s face. Not difficult in terms of vision, because Kara’s 20/20. It’s hard to see, difficult for Kara to deal with, because it’s heartrending. Relief, a massive wave of it, sweeps across Lena’s face and Kara can see the stress etched under her eyes along with a palpable need. She forgets giving up secrets, forgets her own desire for closure and for Lena to understand. That’s not what Lena needs right now. 

 

She slips in through Lena’s unlocked balcony door (that’s dangerous, she should just give Supergirl a key instead) and finds her in the gym. “Bad day?” 

 

It hurts to see Lena so tired and burned out. It makes Kara want to _do_ something, perhaps something reckless. “Anybody I need to disappear?” Lena looks surprised that she means it so vehemently. It’s only natural, Kara thinks. She protects those closest to her and soothes their hurts. 

 

That’s why she orders Lena to sit on the chest press, why she falls to her knees like she’s never done before. It’s...unnerving. The position is so vulnerable, so very solid in the connotation of  _ submission _ **,** and Supergirl doesn’t kneel. She shouldn’t, but it’s too late. She’s on her knees, nestled between Lena’s legs, and Lena looks so  _ shaken _ **,** awed — but most of all, the stress and pain and exhaustion deep in her eyes is gone. Muted, Kara knows, but Lena looks like she’s been delivered from on high and Kara smirks. 

 

“You like me on my knees, hmm?” she teases, and Lena nods, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “Kinky.” 

 

And then Lena asks, “Control me.” and Kara has to glance away, just briefly, to hide the pain that lances through her like a spear. She can’t begin to imagine what kind of Atlas Lena is. She bears the weight of world foreign to Kara —  but a world nonetheless. If this is what she can do to relieve the burden, even just for a little, then she’ll do it. 

 

And it’s a burden that goes even beyond her job, beyond her responsibilities, because Lena doesn’t seem to realize how _ethereal_ she is. There’s shame in her eyes, very real and echoing, and Kara’s twisted with anger and sorrow for the irrationalities of human beauty. Not that Krypton was much better, but for Lena, her Lena, to burn with such shame and feel _inadequate_ around Kara — it makes her furious, like she’s swallowed the sun. She finds soft soothing words and uses those, relieved when some of that embarrassment disappears off Lena’s face. For Lena to be so ashamed of her body...Kara feels chained down with the knowledge that she can’t go out and fight societal norms and ingrained ideas of beauty with her fists. 

 

Small mercy. Lena doesn’t seem to notice the sorrowful fury beating in Kara’s chest like a second heart, and Kara slips easily into the role Lena wants her to play. She controls, pushes just far enough, and Lena responds eagerly under her fingertips. The way she succumbs, the desperation in her voice...it’s so much more than just sex, so much more than the physical plane of it. Lena needs this, needs it like oxygen, because Kara can feel the tension leaking from her shoulders and floating away. 

 

And that means Kara can’t tell her. She can’t break this fragile thing that they have, because she’s terrified of breaking Lena and breaking  _ herself _ **.**

 

— — — 

 

Kara’s waiting when Lena steps out of the bathroom. “Hey.” That bright smile — Lena just has to match it. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“Great. Phenomenal. Very sleepy.” Lena squeaks in surprise as Kara sweeps her off her feet, once again carrying her bridal style. “I see your cousin has rubbed off on you,” she remarks, slinging her arm around Kara’s torso. 

 

A disbelieving pout. “I prefer to think that I pull it off better.” Kara picks up Lena’s clothes. “Would you rather me use a fireman’s carry?” 

 

Lena buries her face in Kara’s shoulder. “No, thank you.” She closes her eyes and imagines that Kara’s taking her away from all of life’s responsibilities. She’s dreamt about it before — Supergirl sweeping into one of her board meetings, stunning all the old white men, picking Lena up and flying her away to a beach. Yes, she’s a big fan of strong, independent women, but there’s nothing like being taken care of by the city’s — no, the  _ world’s _ — most powerful person to make her feel safe. 

 

She’s halfway to actually falling asleep in Kara’s arms (that’s  _ definitely _ not a thing that friends with benefits do) when Kara nudges her gently. “Lena, could you open the door?” 

 

She blinks the drowsiness out of her eyes and turns the doorknob, yawning. “I want to know. Did you really learn all that online?” 

 

Kara laughs lightly, shutting the door behind them. “Kind of. I just got some tips, and then went with the flow. It helps that you were very eager.” 

 

Lena hides her grin in Kara’s chest. “I’ve never done anything like that before, either,” she admits. “I slept with a guy in college….but I never got around to sex with my girlfriends.” 

 

“Girlfriends? Plural?” Kara sets her down on the bed, that adorable crinkle between her eyebrows deepening. 

 

Lena squirms under the blankets. “Yeah. Why, jealous?” She laughs at Kara’s affronted expression. “There were only two of them. And one decided she was straight in the middle of a makeout session.” 

 

Kara winces, floating over to join Lena on the bed. “Ouch. So I was your first time with a woman?” 

 

Lena nods, moving so that she’s firmly ensconced in Kara’s arms, front to front, forehead resting on Kara’s shoulder. “Yeah, and what a first time it was. How are you so good at it? Is Supergirl secretly a sex goddess?” she asks, voice hushed. 

 

A huff of laughter. “What can I say? I like giving, so I have a lot of practice at it.” 

 

“Anything...kinky?” Lena finds it much easier to ignore whatever simmering feelings are below the surface when she’s occupied with anything sexy Kara’s doing. Overwhelming herself with her control issues easily takes precedence over the fact that she might be in a little bit of love with Kara Danvers. 

 

“Depends on what you mean by kinky,” Kara deflects. “I don’t do sadism or masochism. Bondage...not usually. Not unless they’re into it.” 

 

Lena shivers at the idea. “Handcuffs don’t work on you, right?” Kara shakes her head. “What about sensation play? Ice, molten wax?” She can feel Kara’s amused gaze resting on the top of her head. 

 

“For somebody who’s inexperienced with sex, you sure know a lot,” Kara remarks. 

 

“I read.” Lena shrugs. “I know what I like.” 

 

“Tell me.” Kara moves so that they’re facing each other. Lena resists the urge to look away. Lying there, just looking at each other, feels more intimate than anything they’ve ever done. “We should set limits. So I know what you’re okay with and what you’re not okay with.” 

 

Lena’s heart swells. It’s so much easier like this, when they’re just in it for the sex and nothing else. This is pure simplicity. No complicated conversations about feelings, just a conversation about sexual limits. “I don’t think I would ever want to try anal. Or watersports.” She shrugs. “I can’t think of anything else that’s a hard no. What about you? I know you’re ace, but does anything…would you like to see anything?” She can’t believe she’s having her first real sex conversation with  _ Supergirl _ of all people. 

 

Kara purses her lips. “I don’t particularly find anything...sexy. But I like making you feel good. I like hearing you beg, especially when you get all desperate.” She slips her hand under Lena’s chin, thumb stroking over her jaw. “I love the sounds you make when I threaten to stop. I like the idea that….nobody else gets to hear you like this. All needy and begging.” Lena swallows, unable to meet Kara’s burning gaze. “Oh. And I like it when you pull my hair. It feels good.”  

 

Lena makes note of that. Her fingers stroke a dark, damp patch on Kara’s suit, right above her skirt. “I got your suit wet.” She drags her nails against Kara’s suit and likes the shudder that ripples through her body in response. “I’ve never seen you naked before.” 

 

“Are you asking?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

In the blink of an eye, Supergirl’s boots are neatly placed by the door, her cape folded, and she’s stripping out of her suit with a military-like fashion. “What, no striptease?” Lena asks playfully. Kara pauses. 

 

“Oh. You want me to —” 

 

A grin tugs at the corner of Lena’s mouth. “It’s too late now, Supergirl. Come here, I want to see you.” Kara slips out of her no-nonsense bra and panties. Lena knows it isn’t really possible to really get a nosebleed from how attractive somebody is, but she feels like it’s a very real medical concern at the moment. “Lie down.” 

 

Kara does, watching Lena silently. There’s — hesitation? apprehension? — in her eyes, like she’s worried about what Lena will say. Which doesn’t make sense; Kara should know by now that Lena holds her in the highest regard no matter what. 

 

Kara turns on her side, so they’re facing each other. Lena’s struck breathless. Those long legs, the flat, toned planes of her stomach, the swells of her breasts… “You’re so beautiful.” Her fingers twitch at her side. “May I…?”

 

Kara nods, one arm resting beneath her head as she watches Lena reach out hesitantly. “I won’t bite,” she murmurs, half-moon smile on her lips. “Unless you want me to.” 

 

Lena brushes her fingers across smooth, unmarked skin, watching the muscles twitch underneath her touch. She moves closer, drawn in by the alluring, uncovered heat of Kara’s body. She traces the sloping lines of Kara’s stomach, admiring every sensation. The goosebumps trailing after her fingers. The little golden hairs brushing against her fingertips. Kara’s chest rising and falling rhythmically. Lena’s fingers skirt those lovely breasts and explore the dips of Kara’s collarbone. The sharp lines of her body, the curving muscles and the tense pull of flesh, are a siren call — a weakness Lena never knew, her Achilles heel. “Even Aphrodite would be envious,” she murmurs, and Kara laughs huskily. 

 

“Don’t steal my compliments, flatterer.” There’s a close-lipped quality to her voice. She’s holding something back, just beyond her vocal chords.    
  
Lena tilts her head back, looks up at Kara. From the noble sweep of her nose to the strong line of her jaw, there’s a subtle tension. “This is new for you.” 

 

Kara doesn’t look at her. The word spins quietly away on empty air. “Yes.” 

 

“You’ve never let anybody touch you? Not even —” 

 

“No. I haven’t.” 

 

“I’m honored,” Lena jokes, but it barely pulls a real smile from Kara. “Supergirl.” She presses close, lets their foreheads bump together. “Talk to me.” 

 

Kara’s arm wraps around Lena automatically as she searches for the words. “I’m just...nervous. I guess. Like you said, I’ve never let anybody really touch me. Like you have. I don’t know what…”

 

“What to expect?” 

 

A jerky nod. “I want to be normal. To let you touch me, because I know you want to. I know normal people give and receive, but I just can’t handle it. And I want to, because of the way you look at me, like you want to eat me alive, and —” Her voice spirals into nothingness. A hollow laugh. “It’s stupid, because I don’t even feel sexual attraction the right way. Why would I even want this?” 

 

“That’s not true.” Lena wonders who ever made Kara feel this way, wonders if she can go back and find them and crush them into little pieces. “There’s no right way to feel sexual attraction. And I don’t care if we’re not normal. I lo- I like it the way we are.” She reaches out, grasps Kara’s chin and turns her head so they’re looking at each other. “If you want to try this, we can. We can go slowly, see what you can and can’t handle. How does that sound?” 

 

Kara’s chin dips down, then up. “Okay,” she breathes. “We can try.” 

 

Lena purses her lips. “Do you want to start now?” 

 

A quick nod, like Kara might change her mind if she waits too long. 

 

“Are you sure?” 

 

“..Yes. I’m sure.” Her voice grows firm, determined. 

 

“We’ll start with hands first, okay? Green if you’re good, yellow if you want me to slow down, red if it’s too much. Understand?” Lena hadn’t predicted their roles switching this much, but surprisingly enough, she likes the idea of testing Kara’s boundaries. It feels…intimate, like a secret kept just between the two of them. It finally feels like she’s giving back. 

 

“Okay.” Kara’s nervous, tinged with excitement. 

 

“I’m going to start with your arms.” 

 

“Not very sexy,” Kara remarks, but her breathing is already going shallow. 

 

“Breathe, Supergirl,” Lena reminds, and begins to run her hands up and down Kara’s arms. “We’re starting slow, remember?” She draws long lines down Kara’s arm, barely grazing her skin. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“Um, ticklish.” Kara squirms. “Green, though.” 

 

“Okay. Now I’m going to touch your chest, okay?” 

 

Kara breathes in shakily, nodding. “Yeah. Okay.” 

 

This is difficult. Lena wants terribly to give in and lavish the proper attention on Kara’s breasts, wants to use her mouth to lick and suck, but just the bare hint of touch around her nipples is enough to make Kara gasp. “Y-yellow,” she manages, eyes screwed shut. When Lena’s fingers retreat further, the tension in the cords of her neck relaxes. “Green.” 

 

And so it goes. Lena touches her — from light, feathery touches to blunt nails scratching — and Kara reacts, little gasps and whines and moans bubbling from her lips. Lena is delighted every time she gets a sound: a deliberately controlled exhale when Lena teases her inner thighs, a barely audible whine when Lena’s fingertips glide over the curve of her ass, a heavy sigh of bliss when Lena drags her nails down her back. 

 

When Lena asks “Mouth?” and Kara shakes her head, she’s not surprised. “You did well,” she praises, and Kara gives her a weak, glowing smile. 

 

“I feel tingly all over,” she murmurs. “Like you’re still touching me.” She draws the blanket up to cover herself, squinting drowsily at Lena. “Thank you.” 

 

Lena brushes a stray strand of hair from Kara’s face. “Of course,” she murmurs, sealing her fate yet again. “Any time.” 

 

— — — 

 

Perhaps Kara’s been giving herself too much credit, because as soon as Lena offers to touch her, sets up some rules and shoots that pure concern back at her…Kara starts to realize that maybe  _ she _ needs this just as much as Lena does. 

 

She leaves only after Lena’s sound asleep, physically exhausted from both the sex and the workout. Kara leaves her water on the bedside table and makes sure she has food in her fridge before departing via the balcony. Wearing the suit after Lena’s drowsy, delicate touches feels like sandpaper. Rao, she’s never felt so sensitive and worked up. She wasn’t lying when she told Lena this was the first time anybody had touched her like that — being hypersensitive is a curse in the sexual realm, thank god she doesn’t feel sexual attraction anyways — and it’s novel, unexpected, a bit terrifying. Like how she imagines regular people feel when they try sky-diving or rollercoasters for the first time. Excited, but with the knowledge that mortal harm is possible. 

 

The eternal bluster of the high altitude wind washes that feeling off of her after a quick patrol of the city. She’s supposed to be doing some good ol’ footwork for a piece under Snapper’s command, so she can stay out just a little longer. It’s just past two, the high noon sun tired and thinking about a long afternoon. She drifts and soaks it in, one ear cocked for sounds of Lena waking up. 

 

She thinks about what she’s going to tell Alex. About what she’s going to tell  _ herself _ **,** to keep this mess corked up like a sinking ship in a bottle. It seems too complicated, like a tangle of Christmas tree lights left untended for just a minute. She needs to focus on the facts, as Alex likes to say. Figure out what’s plain information and cut the emotions out. Then she can decide what to do. 

 

_ Fact one: _ She likes Lena as more than a friend. 

_ Fact two: _ Lena needs Supergirl. 

_ Fact three: _ Lena likes Kara. As more than a friend? (...yet to be proven.)

_ Fact four: _ If Kara waits any longer to tell Lena the truth, she might lose her chance to do it at all. 

_ Fact five: _ If Kara tells Lena now, she might lose Lena. 

_ Fact six: _ she might lose her anyways. 

 

“This is stupid,” she declares, and the wind howls in response. 

 

She returns to CatCo to finish up the article, endures a less-terrible-than-usual editing from Snapper, and turns down a suggestion of drinks from James. “It’s Thursday,” is her excuse, but at least that’s a legitimate one. Alex is bringing over Legally Blonde: The Musical, and Kara’s _ready_ to be humming show tunes for the rest of the month. She collects her stuff and heads home, trying to keep her thoughts away from Lena and everything in association with her. That turns out to be irritatingly impossible — she passes the place they have breakfast sometimes and then the park, unsolicited memories flitting about her head. 

 

She forces them away and considers how to tell Alex that she’s too weak to say no to relieving Lena’s pain. Because that’s really it, isn’t it? She’s like a drug for Lena, but she’s the one addicted. Addicted to being her medicine, addicted to seeing that relief spread across Lena’s face like a drop of dye in water, to bringing her calm in the midst of the storm. All things considered, it’s not a bad thing to be addicted to. 

 

She almost fries Mon-el when she opens her apartment door and finds him on the other side. She shoots some choice words into the air instead. Lena’s fault, she thinks, a little hysterical. She’s a bad influence. 

 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, hands still up in surrender. “I thought you knew I was here.” 

 

“How — what do you need, Mon-el?” She still hasn’t forgotten last time, which he knows. There’s still that kicked-puppy-dog look on his face. 

 

“I just wanted to check in. How did things go with, uh, your date?”  _ Not this again. _ “Get a boyfriend?” 

 

“No, actually,” she shoots, setting her purse down a little harder than she’d intended. “What do you want, Mon-el? Dating tips? Surprisingly enough, the internet can give better advice than I can.” 

 

He blinks. “Um, no, that’s not it. You’re not dating him, then?” 

 

She huffs. This reminder of how royally messed up the Lena situation is is something she doesn’t need right now. “No. I’m not dating him.” 

 

“Oh.” He steps forward, strange look in his eyes. Kara doesn’t like it one bit. “Does that mean I can…” She frowns at him, meaning to ask what the heck he’s going on about, and then he kisses her. 

 

She’s always hated the feeling of stubble against her face. Kara freezes, eyes wide, hand paused mid-air like her unspoken question. Distinctly, she hears Alex open the door. 

 

“Get your hands off her!” Alex snaps, and Kara can tell she’s either millimeters away from pulling her gun or it’s already in her hands. “Unless you’re...okay with that, Kara. I guess,” she adds, sounding disgusted. 

 

Kara’s definitely _not_ okay with that. She pushes Mon-el away and doesn’t even try to spare his feelings, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “ _Never_ ,” she spits, “do that again. Without asking. Properly. Do you understand?” 

 

He shrinks under the withering glares of double Danvers sisters. “So...that’s a no?” 

 

“You’re getting off easy, space boy. Get out.” Alex orders, and Kara thanks the sun for her sister. As soon as the door closes on him, Alex turns her piercing gaze on Kara. “Okay, Kara. Spill.” 

 

Oh, boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are emotions confusing? Yes! Is writing confusing emotions confusing? Heck yes! 
> 
> Comment to give both of these love-sick fools a hug because Rao knows they need it. 
> 
> (guys I just finished my last day of high school and it's literally the best feeling ever; god I'm never going back)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little transition chapter with some gratuitous smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the first thing I wrote for this fic, and the rest of the story spiraled out of this. It's inspired by the song Bedroom Door by Broods; you should check it out!

 

The door closes behind Mon-el and Alex looks at Kara. She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about...what just happened.” A burst of exasperated air escapes Kara’s mouth. “I’m going to pretend that didn’t actually happen.”

 

“Okay, then, what about Lena?”

 

Kara looks up at the ceiling. “I didn’t do it,” she mumbles. “I didn’t tell her." Her chest aches at the memory of Lena's anger, at the way relief spread across her face at the sight of Supergirl. "She needs Supergirl. Not Kara Danvers.”

 

“Oh, Kara.” Alex wraps her in a hug, and Kara sniffles into her shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay.”

 

They stay like that for a while — Kara in Alex’s arms, feeling everything she shouldn’t and wishing things were different. “I though...I thought she liked _me_. Not Supergirl.”

 

Alex hums, rubbing her back. From the little she's seen of Lena Luthor, it seems unlikely that it's true. She doesn't tell Kara that, knowing that her sister isn't going to listen. “If that's true, then she's missing out.” She knows that she’s going to be paying Ms. Luthor a visit in the near future. “Come sit. I brought the movie.”

 

Kara convinces Alex to leave shortly after Elle graduates from Harvard and Kara buys the entire soundtrack on iTunes, promising that she’s fine, she just needs to get some rest. Kara gets ready for bed and lies on the mattress, not even attempting to sleep. Instead, her mind keeps going back to Mon-el, working itself into a frothy anger. She can’t believe he actually kissed her. What would —

 

She freezes. What would Lena say? If Kara told her, what would she do? Kara still doesn’t believe that Lena likes Supergirl over her. After all, Lena was giving hearteyes to Kara, not Supergirl, the entirety of the movie. Would telling her be enough to...catalyze a change? Would it change anything at all?

 

It’s worth a try, right?

 

— — —

 

Lena trips through her doorway and toes her shoes off, tossing her laptop bag on the couch and not even caring when it bounces off. She’s rich, she can buy another computer.

 

Supergirl’s cape is folded on the counter. Her pulse starts to race.

 

If she had a list of her worst days, this would rank in the top ten — right up there alongside the day Lex went to jail and every time her mother tried to use her for some evil scheme. In the morning, an anti-alien maniac had tried to break into the lab and steal the alien detection device, injuring some of her scientists and security guards before being apprehended. To top that debacle off, she’d had to fend off accusations of corruption in the board and two high-stakes meetings with investors. Nothing had gone spectacularly badly, but she had come frighteningly close to cussing out one of her department directors for screwing up his report because he’d been hungover.

 

At least she hadn’t gone nuclear in the meeting, she thinks wryly. And now, she can relax.

 

When she opens the door to her bedroom, she’s greeted with a familiar sight. Supergirl is napping in her bed, boots tossed haphazardly to the floor and the blanket pulled up to her chin. There’s a bottle of lube on the bedside table, sparking the slow burn of anticipatory arousal in her gut. The affection in her chest won’t be denied, though, and shines through in a soft smile on Lena’s face. “Wake up, sleepyhead.” She nudges Kara’s foot.

 

“Mmmm, you’re back.” She stretches, yawning, and grins lopsidedly at Lena. “What are you waiting for?” Lena hides her smile and closes the bedroom door. It’s dim now, the only light from the curious fingers of sunlight probing around the curtains. She makes to turn on the lights, but Kara tsks. “Keep them off,” she instructs. Her eyes are probing, cautious, like she’s reaching her hand into a dark hole without any idea of what’s in it. “Can you take your clothes off for me?” When Lena pauses, she adds, “I can close my eyes, if you want.”

 

Lena bites her lip. Despite the lack of light, she can make out the concern in Kara’s gaze. “Okay,” she whispers. Choking fear crawls up her throat and her lower brain, controlled by such terror, imagines Kara fleeing in disgust at the sight of her. Unlikely. But not impossible.

 

“You don’t have to,” Kara murmurs, eyebrows furrowed. “I won’t think any less of you.” Her tone turns light, but delicately so, attempting to lift the mood. “It’ll just make it easier for both of us if I don’t have to wreck your entire wardrobe.”

 

First, her skirt.

 

Lena can barely make out the quiet “Oh” that escapes Kara’s mouth, but she sees her turn away. The words slip out of her own mouth this time. They’re shaky, but firm. Like Jello. “You can look.”

 

The black pencil skirt falls to the ground. Her legs — what her college roommate used to call “man-killers” — aren’t a real source of concern for her. She used to run a fair bit. Not to mention the fact that she’s definitely caught Kara Danvers staring a bit too long when she walks over.

 

Next, her blouse.

 

She unbuttons it without thinking, worried that if she gives herself time to reevaluate, she’ll falter. Lena doesn’t look down. She meets at Kara’s gaze, straining through the dim light in anticipation. Anticipation of what — disgust, hatred — she doesn’t know. She unhooks her bra.

 

It’s a soft light, a warm  — dare she say it? — _affection_ **,** shining in Kara’s eyes. “It’s a crime,” she mutters, “that the media makes you hate your body. You know what I think? You’re perfect. It’s part of you, and —” She breaks off. “I don’t subscribe to other people’s idea of beauty. You — you are the most perfect woman I’ve ever had the privilege of touching.”

 

Lena tries to keep the moisture in her eyes from slipping out, but as she ducks her head, a tear slides silently off the tip of her nose. Kara sighs, sad and adoring. “Come here.” She beckons, and Lena obeys. “Sit.” Supergirl pats the space between her legs, and Lena slides onto the bed hesitantly. “Like this.” Kara pulls her closer, until Lena’s back is pressed to Kara’s front and she fits snugly between Supergirl’s spread legs. “Lean back,” she directs, and Lena does. She can feel the swells of Kara’s breasts against her bare back, wisps of gold hair tickling her shoulders. “Can I touch you?”

 

A silent nod.

 

“You know, there are organs in here,” Kara murmurs, steel-bending fingers light as feathers on Lena’s lower belly, smoothing over the soft flesh there that she hates.

 

“Oh, really?” Lena asks, unable to keep the sarcasm from shooting out like defensive barbs.

 

“Yeah,” Kara responds, smiling. “It’s unrealistic, the sort of bodies that magazines promote. I used to think that models would have their intestines sucked out for photo shoots until I learned about Photoshop.” Lena laughs a little at that, imagining a little Kara staring wide-eyed at magazine covers. “The expectations other people have of your body are unrealistic.” She adds, barely audible, “I’m not other people, Lena.”

 

She exhales, abrupt exhaustion threading through her bones. “Okay,” she breathes out, and Kara presses a kiss to the nape of her neck.

 

“How was the rest of your day?” she asks, strong fingers kneading the tense muscles of Lena’s neck and shoulders. “You had meetings again?”

 

Lena closes her eyes, thankful for the topic change. “Mmhmm. I almost had to fire one of my department directors for coming to work hungover and screwing up his presentation in front of an important investor. He lost his wife last year and I’ve been making sure he’s going to AA, but he’s still….” A heavy sigh escapes her lips, Kara’s fingers working magic on her tight muscles. “He’s still struggling. And he always does phenomenal work, when he’s not drunk or hungover.” She groans, head lolling back to rest on Kara’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire him.”

 

Kara hums in sympathy, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry. That’s a terrible position to be in.”

 

Lena sighs at the ceiling. “What about you? Save any kittens in trees?” Sometimes Kara gets into funny situations, like saving a kid’s snake from escaping into the gutter, or helping somebody whose head is stuck in the railings.

 

Kara mirrors her sigh, hands moving down to massage between Lena’s shoulder blades. “Not today. I had to talk down a girl about to jump from the roof of her high school building. Her father’s abusive, but I couldn’t do anything about it. The police were forced to turn her over to him.” There’s a hard coal of bitterness in her voice. “I don’t even know if I helped.”

 

Lena grabs one of Kara’s hands, rubs her thumb over her knuckles. She doesn’t know how to reassure people. She’s not made for comforting, but with Kara, it’s simple: physical touch, warm, logical words. Reason. “You did help,” she murmurs. “The police are aware of her situation. And she knows that somebody is on her side.” Lena nudges her head back to press her lips to Kara’s jaw. “Sometimes, that’s enough to keep fighting.”

 

Kara nods the slightest bit. “Okay,” she breathes. Her fingers press at Lena’s back, working out the knots. “Want to forget about today with me?”

 

Lena exhales. “Yes.” She feels like putty in Kara’s hands, sinking slowly into the mattress. Kara’s so warm, like an electric blanket, and drowsiness is threatening her plans. “By all means.”

 

“Do you trust me?” Kara asks, unhooking Lena’s bra. The cold air nips at her chest and she shivers.

 

“Yes.”

 

Kara’s voice turns stern, commanding, like a military officer. “Keep your hands here.” She moves Lena’s hands to her own bare thighs. “No moving them at all, understood?”

 

Lena nods, swallowing hard. She already feels helpless, and it brings a sensation like no other — arousal, mixed with relief, followed by glowing freedom and safety.

 

“Answer me, Lena.” She’d never known Kara’s voice could go so low. Or so sexy.

 

“U-understood. Ma’am,” she adds, wondering what Kara will do with that. They’ve never swum into the deeper waters of dominance and submission, staying in the shallow end where things don’t need as much deep conversation and discussion before being put into use. It feels natural, though, to use such a title when she’s being ordered around.

 

A husky laugh, breathy at the edges, ruffles her hair. “Mm. That’s good, Lena. Very good.” Kara’s lips flutter down Lena’s neck, little sparks of sensation. “I’m going to take care of you. Okay?” she whispers.

 

“Y-yes, ma’am.” Her voice is shaky. She feels like she’s blindfolded, with the dark room and not being able to see Kara’s face.

 

Kara’s hands squeeze her breasts gently, fingers moving soft and gentle across her nipples. Tiny flickers of pleasure follow her fingertips. “Are you scared, Lena?” That’s not dirty talk. That’s genuine concern, and unexpected tears rise to Lena’s eyes at the worry in Kara’s voice.

 

Get a grip, she reprimands herself, and blinks hard. “No, ma’am. Just excited,” she admits. Kara relaxes slightly behind her.

 

“Good. You remember the safeword?”

 

Lena squirms under Kara’s hands. She wants it to start already, wants to lose control to Supergirl. “Kryptonite,” she mutters. Lust is growing, reaching a boiling point. Now those power-relinquishing words come easy, after so many times. “Please, ma’am. Can you touch me?” She used to hate sounding so desperate; now, she loves the effect her words have on Kara.

 

A raspy chuckle. “One more thing.” Kara leans over to suck at Lena’s shoulder, the tender part where it connects to her neck. Her voice surrounds Lena like a warm rain. “Close your eyes.”

 

And then her hands are all over Lena’s body — sliding down her legs, playing with her nipples, tugging her hair, skimming recklessly close between her legs — everywhere but where she’s needed the most. “Fuck,” Lena groans, hips twitching when Kara’s fingers dip just past the waistband of her panties. They’re no-nonsense black, which Kara had confessed a particular liking for. Lena’s hands tighten on Kara’s thighs. “Is this your idea of taking care of people?” she asks, feeling cheeky. And frustrated.

 

Kara bites Lena’s neck reproachfully. “Trust me,” she repeats. She reaches behind them, and Lena hears a few pumps of lube squirting into her hand. Kara reaches back around and then there are finally, _finally_ fingers between Lena’s legs. She gasps, squirming. “And watch your mouth, if you want to come.” Kara’s other hand alternates between her nipples, twisting just enough to insinuate pain.

 

That’s effective. Another solar flare of arousal goes through her body at the thought. “Yes, ma’am,” she says meekly.

 

“Good girl.” Kara’s fingers are slick with Lena’s arousal mixed with lube, sliding easily between her legs. “Hmm. Have you been waiting all day for this, babe?”

 

Lena grips Kara’s thighs hard. _Babe_ **.** By god, that sounds so good from Kara’s mouth. But she’s not moving fast enough, not giving her enough pressure, and Lena wants to take things into her own hands. But she doesn’t want to experience whatever punishment Kara’s got in store — something deliciously painful, probably, like orgasm denial — so she keeps her hands where they are. “Yes. Ma’am.” Her brain is starting to short circuit.

 

“Tell me,” Kara encourages, moving her hand a little faster. The pleasure begins to build and Lena exhales raggedly, hips rising to meet Kara’s strokes.

 

“During the meeting, I was….thinking about you touching me. None of them knew….” Kara’s finger slips over her clit and she forgets English for a moment. “T-they — none of them knew I was thinking about you inside me. About your mouth on my chest…” Kara hums, indicating she should go on. How? Kara’s working so steadily, rubbing those perfect circles between her legs. How is she supposed to keep talking?

 

She must make a choked noise, because Kara shushes her. “Shh, it’s okay. You don’t have to continue. Tell me how good this feels. Are you close?”

 

Lena nods jerkily, back pressing into Kara like it will give her relief. There must be indents of her fingers in Kara’s thighs by now. “Feels good,” she rasps, hips bucking up to meet each firm swirl of Kara’s fingers. “Really good. I’m — I’m close,” she breathes, and the urge to move her hands is breathtakingly unstoppable. Kara saves her — she removes the hand teasing Lena’s chest and smooths out the tension in her left hand.

 

“Okay, baby. Can you come for me?” She’s not _that_ close — a few more seconds, perhaps — but Kara asks so _sweetly_ , breath curving over the shell of her ear, and, well. She shudders and Kara murmurs wordless praises in her ear as her orgasm breaks over her, swelling and stealing her breath away. How lovely, she thinks giddily. She’s never had stress relief so effective.

 

And then Kara keeps going. “I want you to come again,” Kara murmurs against Lena’s skin. Her fingers haven’t stopped moving. Lena squirms, feeling overwhelmed. “Shh, shh. It’s okay, you can do it,” she coos, and Lena whines.

 

“I can’t,” she gasps, clenching her hands. “I _can’t_.” Still, the safeword is the furthest thing from her mind. She wants this. She just can’t do it without Kara.

 

Kara keeps moving. Even faster, tighter circles that make Lena cry out. She murmurs lowly, “Shh, baby, I know you can. I got you, you can do it.” Kara’s fingertips tweak Lena’s nipple and she shudders,  whimpers, the pain ticking her closer to that elusive second orgasm. Kara’s voice is silky and encouraging. “That’s it. You’re almost there.” There’s a feeling, broad and tight, inching closer to the surface. Kara brushes her hair aside and kisses her pulse. “There you go, baby. Such a good girl. Come for me,” she murmurs.

 

It hurts in delicious, pleasurable pulses, a hollow sort of orgasm that leaves her breathing like she’s just run a mile. Her legs ache. “Oh, god,” she manages, black spots dancing in her vision. There are deep marks in Kara’s thighs when she glances down.

 

“Good?” Kara asks, wiping her sticky hands on the sheets. “Lena?”

 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, exhaling shakily. “Just...give me a moment.” Her fingers seek out Kara’s hands reflexively, eyes fluttering shut. “I think….you’re going to have marks.”

 

Kara laughs, tucking her head into the crook of Lena’s neck. “They’re already healing.” Lena runs their conjoined hands over Kara’s leg — they are healing, the dark marks already faint.

 

“That’s not fair,” Lena mumbles drowsily. “I’m going to have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow.” Kara hums apologetically, nudging her nose over the darkening bruises scattered across Lena’s neck and shoulders like flower petals.

 

“Sorry, not sorry.” Kara slides out from behind Lena, letting her lie back against the pillows. She lies on her side and drapes her arm over Lena’s torso. “Want me to clean you up?” Lena sighs and squirms further into Kara’s arms. She should say yes, because god knows she can barely keep her eyes open and she might fall asleep in the shower. But...the thought of so much affection and care — of being taken care of without any sexual purpose — terrifies her.

 

“It’s okay. I’ll be quick.” She slips out of Kara’s arms (just in time, too, because any longer and she would have been forever trapped in that safe warmth) and stumbles into the bathroom. She goes through the motions, washes the musk of sex off her body and the makeup off her face. She even turns the water colder than normal, so she doesn’t fall asleep in the warmth. She still owes Supergirl some cuddling.

 

When she comes back, cozied up in soft sweatpants and Kara’s sweatshirt, Supergirl’s barely visible under the blankets. “C’mere,” she mumbles, pouting. Lena can’t help the smile that blooms on her face, much like how one can’t help cooing at an adorable puppy.

 

She climbs onto the bed and slides back into Kara’s arms. Here she feels malleable and warm, like melting butter. It’s hard to recall a time where she felt this safe. The soft darkness settles on them like another blanket, the silence comfortable, and then those words tickle Lena’s throat again. She swallows them painfully, like sharp rocks.

 

There’s nothing she can do now. She’s forbidden herself to give in to that swelling affection in her breast, restricted that emotion to the physical plane of their relationship. No feelings, no strings. She relaxes deeper into Kara’s arms and closes her eyes.

 

When she wakes up, Supergirl’s gone and the clock blinks 8:35 PM. There’s a note on the counter where her cape had been.

 

_Thanks for the nap :) Kara Danvers called, said she wanted to talk to you. Until next time._

 

— — —

 

She doesn’t even have to go out of her way to visit Lena the next day. There always seems to be people after her, and the anti-alien fanatic gives Kara a legitimate pretext to drop by L Corp. To make things even easier, Lena asks her to come by after work. She says yes, nervousness roiling in her belly and mixing with thick worry at the exhaustion on Lena’s face. She’ll tell Lena after Supergirl leaves. It’s better that way.

 

She texts Lena a few minutes after Supergirl leaves the CEO’s apartment.

 

[Kara Danvers]: Hey, could I come over for a bit? I need some advice

 

Lena responds faster than she’s ever done before.

 

[Lena]: Of course. Let me know when you’re here so I can let you up.

 

She walks to Lena’s building, wanting to take the time to figure out what she’s going to say. She’s going to tell Lena that Mon-el kissed her. And then what? Hope that Lena confesses feelings for her? Ideally, yes. If not, then she’s going to ask for advice. Advice she actually needs, because she hadn’t asked Alex about what to do with the Mon-el Mess at all. If everything goes to fudge at least she’ll get some advice. Hopefully.

 

Lena opens the door, wearing nicer clothes but still looking soft and tired. She seems to always be tired, nowadays. “Hey.”

 

“Hey.” Kara smiles, forgets what she’s here for, then remembers again when she sees her (Supergirl’s) note on the counter. “Sorry to drop in on you like this.”

 

“No, it’s fine, I just woke up, anyway.” Lena watches her, eyes concerned. “What’s wrong?”

 

Kara takes a breath. “Mike kissed me last night.”

 

She sees a myriad of emotions flicker across Lena’s face, too quick to register properly. Her smile doesn’t waver at all. “Oh. So, you’re dating now?”

 

Kara blinks, taken aback. “ _What_? No, we’re — I needed your advice.”

 

“Oh.” Lena seems as taken aback as Kara is. Both of them, wallowing in confusion. How great, Kara thinks distantly. Nobody knows what’s going on. “On what? If you should date him or not?”

 

“Yeah. Kind of. He’s not...really somebody I’m interested in. He’s more like a brother.” Lena looks like she’s about to rise to the bait, but then backs off.

 

“A brother? Probably shouldn’t date him, then.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but falls flat in the strange air between them. Lena looks pained.

 

“It’s just — how do you know when you actually like somebody? I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like.” Something exquisite creeps across Lena’s face and her voice sounds choked.

 

“Well, does he make you excited? Happy?” She goes to sit on the couch, Kara following. “Does he make your heart beat faster? Or maybe you can’t stop thinking about him?”

 

 _Yes, if you change the name from Mon-el to yours._ “Not...really. Is he supposed to?” This is half acting, half truth. Kara doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be like when you like somebody; she’s never quite felt right about it before. In a way she’s almost trying to figure out if what she feels for Lena is really true.

 

Lena lifts her shoulders in a shrug, that expression of barely-concealed pain still hovering on her face. “That’s what I’ve heard,” she laughs, weakly, still trying to smile. “Does he?”

 

“He doesn’t,” Kara admits, frowning. “He’s kind of irritating at times, actually.”

 

Lena gives that smile again, the one that looks like eons of sadness hidden behind a flimsy barrier of joy, and Kara knows she isn’t going to do or say anything. “That doesn’t sound like good dating material,” she jokes. “But I think you should do whatever’s going to make you happy.”

 

Kara nods along. It’s too bad that while that suggestion might be the most logical, it also happens to be the most impossible.

 

— — —

 

After Kara leaves, still with that weird, longing expression on her face, Lena pours herself four fingers of whiskey and downs it.

 

Then she looks in her fridge, decides that food stands in the way of getting blackout drunk, and pours herself another glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me what you thought! those of you who comment on every chapter, you are godsent. Thank you so much <3


	5. Chapter 5

Everything hurts and it feels like her entire brain is made of regret and ache.

 

Lena lies on the cool tiles of her kitchen and groans, unpeeling her sticky face from the floor to find another cool spot. She’s never had a hangover this bad before. It feels like nails are being hammered into her skull every time she moves, like hydrochloric acid is sloshing around inside and dissolving her grey matter, like Supergirl herself is giving her a beatdown with those iron fists.

 

Which isn’t half untrue. Kara’s the reason she’s gone on this spiral of self-destructive behavior, the reason why she drank herself into a stupor at nine last night and woke up at six this morning to vomit in the toilet for a good hour.

 

“Although, I must clarify,” Lena mumbles to herself, cheek squished against the floor. She points her finger condescendingly at the cabinet in front of her. “It’s not her _fault._ ”

 

It’s not her fault, okay, and Lena doesn’t care. It’s okay, because Lena doesn’t care, really, about Kara Danvers, or about Supergirl, or about anybody. Kara Danvers has Mike of the interns, with the stupid glasses and the hipster outfit, and Supergirl has — Supergirl has — National City, or something. Justice. Supergirl has justice. Lena giggles to herself and regrets it. “Ow,” she moans, clutching her head. “Fuck.”

 

Okay, it hurts to think about Supergirl and her too-pretty face, so Lena decides that “I don’t care about her” is a good strategy, and lies there for another unspecified amount of time.

 

The sun is starting to burn her back when the balcony door slides open.

 

“Lena?”

 

“Fuck,” Lena tells Supergirl, and it’s a testament to how terrible this hangover is when she doesn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at being found lying on the floor of her kitchen feeling sorry for herself. “What...are you doing here?”

 

“I was worried, I saw you lying on the floor and I thought something had happened,” Supergirl says, a waterfall of words that slip through Lena’s ears. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Shouldn’t you know? You’re friends with Kara,” Lena mumbles, squinting at the halo of sunlight around Supergirl’s form. “No midnight coffee this time?”

 

It’s a good thing Lena can’t see Supergirl’s expression, because she sounds pained. “I...no, what happened? Do you want me to help you...get up?”

 

“No, I’m good down here.” Lena sighs. “It’s a nice day. The sun is shining. I might be dying.”

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“Of bad choices,” Lena clarifies, words warbled. “Hangover.”

 

A relieved exhale. “Oh.” The Kara-shaped shadow vanishes and then Lena feels hands prying her up from the floor. “Okay, I’m going to move you to the couch. Are you feeling nauseous?”

 

“Um, it’s actually nauseated.”

 

Oh, Lena would feel bad, but Kara looks so _cute_ when she’s confused like that. “What?” she asks again, voice strained.

 

“Nauseous is if you _make_ somebody feel sick,” Lena states. “Nauseated is if _you_ feel sick.”

 

“Okay, smart aleck, just don’t throw up your words on me.” Kara sounds exasperated and that would make Lena sad, if she cared. “Up we go.”

 

The leather couch is soothing and cool and Lena burrows into it immediately. She doesn’t emerge, even when Kara nudges her with a glass of water. “No,” she grunts. “Don’t want it.”

 

“Lena,” Kara sighs. Lena imagines her pushing her hair up behind her ear, expression of affectionate annoyance on her lovely features. “As much as I would like to babysit you, there’s been a break-in. Can you drink this by the time I get back?” Lena’s about to refuse. Then — Kara leans over and there’s a soft press of lips against Lena’s temple. “I’ll be right back,” she promises.

 

Lena uncurls herself and replays that moment for several minutes once Kara’s gone. A kiss. _No kiss goodbye, then,_ she thinks, rather delusionally, and carefully lifts the glass of water to her lips.

 

She does feel a little better after drinking it. And she feels even better when Kara returns with Tylenol, Gatorade, and a glass container of what looks like…

 

“Chicken soup?” Lena croaks, and Supergirl gives her a bashful grin.

 

“Had some left over, lucky for you. Least I could do.”

 

And wow, that probably means things — like perhaps Kara’s trying to make up for yesterday, trying to tell her something? — but Lena does _not_ want to figure out what those things mean right now. Right now, she’s content with swallowing some Tylenol and gulping down the soup. “Thank you,” she mutters, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. She feels a little like crying because nobody takes care of her like this, ever, and especially not the person she’s supposed to not care about, and it’s a lot to handle even _without_ a hangover. “You didn’t have to.”

 

“I help people.” Kara shrugs. “It’s what I do.”

 

“You go around giving chicken soup to every person in National City when they have hangovers?” Lena asks, dryly. She doesn’t know why she asks that question. She doesn’t want to hear the answer.

 

“No,” Kara murmurs, looking off into the distance. The sunlight glows off the wooden floor and basks her in warm light. “Just a few people.”

 

Lena doesn’t pursue further questioning. She finishes the soup, drinks some more Gatorade, and Kara just sits there, on the arm of the couch, watching her. Lena doesn’t look over. She just keeps the tips of Kara’s boots in her peripheral vision, and resists the urge to see her face.

 

When she’s done, Kara washes the container and Lena doesn’t have the strength to protest. She pauses by the balcony. “Make sure you keep drinking water, okay?” Lena nods, and suddenly that sharp twisting feeling springs behind her eyes and coalesces into tears, tears that threaten to fall and Kara’s going to leave —

 

“Wait!” Lena doesn’t look up, doesn’t want to see Kara’s face. “Can — can you —” She stands, opens her arms. Self-crucified on a cross of her own devising, Lena asks and Kara gives. She embraces Lena in a hug and Lena lets two tears — only two — soak into the dark blue of her suit. “Thank you.” Kara holds her and for just a minute, Lena lets herself believe that everything is okay. That this hug, this feeling of safety and affection, is pure and untainted by her own issues.

 

For a moment, she lets herself believe that Kara is hers.

 

“Of course.” There’s an unspoken quality about that, like the word “anytime” is just floating beneath the surface. “Take care of yourself.”

 

And then she’s gone, into the brightening day.

 

— — —

 

Kara thinks she’s actually been doing well so far, up until she brings Lena the chicken soup. The soup is the last straw, the litmus test of how well she’s actually doing. And as it turns out, she’s doing quite terribly after all.

 

She leaves Lena’s apartment as Kara Danvers and thinks, no, it’s okay, Lena doesn’t like Kara Danvers as more than a friend. And she supposes, through blurry vision, that friendship is what she’s going to have to settle for. Because Lena Luthor needs Kara Zor-el, not Kara Danvers, and she’s going to respect that if it kills her.

 

She finds Lena lying on the floor and deals with that rather well. She doesn’t sound like somebody whose heart is a little bit shattered. She sounds like Supergirl. Which she’s proud of! She’s trying to keep her feelings on the back burner — off the emotional stove completely, if she’s being honest — and it works rather well, until some sneak back under her defenses and then she’s brought Lena chicken soup.

 

She’s not lying when she says there are some other people out there she takes care of — Alex sometimes needs it, not as much anymore now that she has Maggie; Haley, a recovering alien alcoholic who Kara’s working with to set up an alien AA; a few more alien friends who sometimes require her help. But the chicken soup is a touch that is perhaps a little too far. And they both realize it.

 

She drifts above the city for a bit, aimless in mischievous winds that tug at her cape, urging to go, to _do_ something. What can she do? Alex is working right now. James is working, too. Winn is...supposed to be working, but is playing flash games on his computer. Kara can’t help the little laugh that bubbles up. He’s been working his butt off recently, helping track down and cut off all of Lillian Luthor’s resources, and he deserves some downtime. That means Kara can’t go dragging her issues out so that he can help. No, she needs some advice from somebody else.

 

When she lands on the pavement behind Laurens and taps him on the back, he screams a few octaves above his normal range and does a little tap dance.

 

“Jesus Christ on a _cracker!_ ” he shouts, and his children, playing with toys on the sidewalk, giggle. Kara gives them a grin and a wave. “Supergirl! Holy — I _swear,_ you’re taking years off my life. Jesus christ.” He runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “Jeez. Okay, man, lemme get my breath back. What’s up?” His eyes widen. “Wait, wait, did it work? Did it work?”

 

Kara makes a face. “Uh....can we take a walk?”

 

A few people are staring, but the park is a nice spot of tranquility in the middle of the city. There are birds flitting through the greenery, children playing on the grass, families out for picnics…in other words, normal life.

 

“What happened?” Laurens asks, carefully, like he’s approaching a bomb.

 

“Things….changed,” Kara explains, aware that this situation is going to be impossible to explain without telling him everything. “I think they...like another part of me. But not the important part. Does that make sense? Like —”

 

“They like you, Supergirl, and they don’t like your alter ego?”

 

She blinks at him. “I’m — sorry, what?”

 

Laurens laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s probably supposed to be a secret and everything, but me and the guys, we like to — what’s the word — speculate, about it. It’s kind of like, y’know” — he laughs, bashful, looking at the ground — "a fan club.” He shrugs. “We decided that you couldn’t be Supergirl all the time, because then how would you have a place to live, or get groceries, or do regular things? We also get into big arguments about how much you can lift.”

 

“So you figured it out,” Kara murmurs, grudgingly impressed. “Yeah. They like Supergirl. Not…the other me.” She glances in the direction of Lena’s apartment. “And I don’t even know how much I can lift. As of yet, there isn’t much of a limit.”

 

Laurens whistles, low and long. “Well. Okay, so he doesn’t like the you that matters.”

 

“And they don’t need the other me. They need Supergirl, and I don’t know if telling them will make anything better. I’m afraid...that it’s only going to stress them out even more. And I might lose them.”

 

Laurens hums. “You’re very selfless, Supergirl. But sometimes, if you give yourself away to people, put them ahead of your own needs, then, in the end, you have nothing left for yourself.” He taps his temple. “It might seem selfish. Or counterintuitive. But if you want this to turn out well, the only thing you can do is tell him. Tell him everything. And if he’s hurt, if he’s not willing to accept you — both of you — then maybe you should find a new man.”

 

Kara worries the cloth of her cape between her fingers. “...Really? But what if —”

 

Laurens cuts her off, expression solemn. “You’re afraid of losing him. But if he doesn’t like you for who you are, then is he worth holding on to?”

 

— — —

 

Lena considers going to work, just so she can avoid any memories tied to her apartment. But the thought of her office just brings back flashes of their very first time, and that’s almost worse than all the memories wrapped here like newspapers plastered to the wall. Here, on this couch, Kara leaned over and suggested they have sex in the air. Over there, in the kitchen, they’d talked and Kara had kissed her. And the bedroom…

 

Lena sips more Gatorade and massages her temple. This is hell.

 

A sharp knock at her door, three times. “Ms. Luthor? It’s Alex Danvers. Can I speak to you?”

 

“Wh’ the fuck?” Lena mumbles to herself, making her legs work so that she can stand. “Kara sent you?” she calls. The ground isn’t quite cooperating and she has to lean against the wall so that the tilting floor doesn’t send her sprawling.

 

“No, actually. She’d probably kill me if she knew I was here.”

 

“DEO stuff?” she asks, pulling the door open. She gets a flash of Alex’s startled face, then the door jerks to stop. Fuck, right, the chain. Lena fumbles with it and the door swings fully open.

 

“Um, no, I’m not here for official business. I’m here as a...concerned third party.” Alex comes in, looking Lena up and down. There’s a flicker of recognition in her eyes. She hesitates, then: “No offense, but you look like shit.”

 

It’s mostly surprise in Lena’s burst of laughter, but also gratified relief for the sheer bluntness. She gets a feeling she’s going to like Kara’s sister. “Well, I feel like shit, too,” Lena chuckles. “Not as bad as it could be. K— Supergirl brought me Gatorade and Tylenol earlier.”

 

Alex raises her eyebrows at that. “Did she?” She takes a breath. “I’m going to be honest with you, Ms. Luthor.”

 

“Call me Lena, please.”

 

“...Right. Lena, I know you’re not dumb. Kara likes to think she’s ‘all that’ when it comes to keeping secrets, but…” Alex shrugs, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “She really isn’t the subtlest. So what do you know?”

 

Lena sighs, looking down at her bare feet. “I know she’s Supergirl.” Her own voice feels very far away. “And I know she’s probably dating Mike, or whatever his name is, now.”

 

Alex’s voice is strange. “Why would you think that? Did she tell you that?”

 

“Oh. No, she came by to tell me that he kissed her. I mean, like you said, she’s not the most subtle person. She’s terrible at letting people down easy.” Alex has the strangest expression on her face, like she can’t quite believe Lena’s real. “What?”

 

“Lena,” Alex murmurs. “Kara’s not dating him. In fact,” she laughs, “I’m pretty sure she’d rather be dating _you._ ”

 

She doesn’t know what Alex expects, but it’s clearly not laughter. “No, she wouldn’t,” Lena chuckles. “It doesn’t matter, anyways. I don’t care.” She waves her hand, dispelling that troublesome notion, and Alex’s eyebrows fly up.

 

“All right, enough, we need to talk.”

 

Lena doesn’t want to. “A serious talk?” she asks. “I appreciate the opportunity, but no thanks.”

 

“Nope, come sit. We are talking about this.”

 

“No, really, it’s—”

 

“ _Lena_. Kara’s been acting strange all week. She told me part of what’s going on, but I know she’s holding back. I need your help.” She levels a calm, knowing gaze at Lena. “And I know for a fact that you _do_ care.”

 

“I don’t,” she mutters, but she sits and sips her Gatorade.

 

“She told me she was sleeping with you as Supergirl.” Okay, maybe Lena doesn’t like this bluntness.

 

“Maybe we were.”

 

Alex gestures to her neck. “You’ve got, um, some marks, there.”

 

Lena’s hand flies up automatically, but it’s futile. Kara has a tendency to nip. “Okay,” she admits softly. “We were.” Her eyes flash. “But it wasn’t Kara’s idea. It was mine.”

 

“Why?”

 

It hurts. _I don’t care, don’t care,_ she repeats to herself, an attempt to keep the lid shut on her bubbling emotions. “Because I can’t — be with her, the way she wants. I know she wants something normal, because she’s never _had_ normal, but I can’t do that. I’m a _Luthor."_ Lena blinks moisture from her eyes. “My mother threatened to hurt her and I couldn’t...I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.”  

 

“So you decided to sleep with her instead?” Alex leans back, eyes wide and questioning. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“It’s the only way I could get -- the only way to be close to her,” Lena mutters. “Although, at first, it was just...a moment of weakness. I was tired, stressed…” She massages her temples. “I saw her get hurt for the first time. And then I made a mistake. But afterwards, I knew she was going to tell me Kara Danvers was Supergirl and I didn’t want that to happen.”

  
Alex’s voice is soft. “So you said you should be friends with benefits.”

 

“What else was I supposed to do?” Fury rises like a red tide. “She can’t be with me! She deserves so much better than whatever fucked up relationship I can offer her. I know it’s selfish! I know it’s fucked up and it’s my fault.” Lena exhales heavily. Her head is throbbing. “I can’t give her what she wants. You see? I can’t make her happy. I’m going to get her hurt, or worse! She deserves _better."_

 

Alex’s retort is acidic. “Then why does she come back every time, Lena? Shouldn’t you let _her_ decide if she deserves better? Have you ever thought that maybe this — whatever you’re doing, trying to protect her from you — is hurting her even more?”

 

Lena draws in a breath sharply. “No.” It’s a rebuttal, not an answer.

 

Their voices are rising now. “You’re right, it’s selfish, Lena. Do you know why Kara came to tell you about Mike? She probably wanted you to tell the truth. She gave you a _chance,_ Lena.” Alex shifts forward, eyes burning. “You’re not protecting her from you, or your mother. If you want that — hell, I’ll do it. That’s my job, protecting my little sister. Your job? Your job is to just _be_ there for her.”

 

The words are shredded between Lena’s clenched teeth. “ _I can’t!_ She’s — she’s too good, and I’m _broken,_ Alex. I can’t.”

 

“What are you so afraid of, Lena?” Alex demands. “Hurting her? It’s a bit too late for that. Does she have no say in this? Suddenly you get to decide what’s good for her and what’s not good for her, huh?”

 

Lena glowers. “That is _not_ —”

 

“Then what is it? Kara knows you’re not perfect. She still comes back, doesn’t she?” Voices rising, tide rising, Lena can see the crest approaching. Inevitable, things she won’t be able to retract, but all she can think of is Kara’s face when Lena had said, “ _You should do whatever’s going to make you happy._ ” She’d been crestfallen. Disappointed. Hurt.

 

“She doesn’t know everything,” Lena spits, and why is she so mad at Alex? She shouldn’t be, she shouldn’t be yelling but she can’t control it. “She thinks she does, but she doesn’t. _That’s_ why she comes back. Because she doesn’t fucking know _anything_ — ”

 

_“What doesn’t she know, Lena?”_

 

 _“That I_ **_love_ ** _her!”_

 

Silence obeys gravity and settles over them, a soundless, revealing blanket. Alex leans back in the chair. There’s a knowing, Cheshire cat smile hinting at the corners of her mouth, and Lena recognizes, too late, just how effective certain interrogation techniques are. “You love her,” Alex murmurs. “That’s all she needs.”

 

Lena swallows. “What if I don’t know how to love her?” she whispers, voice splintering. “I don’t.”

 

Alex’s eyes are warm, soft, and Lena understands where Kara gets it from. “Then you _learn_.”

 

— — —

 

There are screams, the crackle of fire — a muffled explosion. Kara cocks her head at the sky and Laurens glances over. “Trouble?”

 

“Yes. Thank you, Laurens. I’d recommend you stay inside with your family right now. Watch the news to see when it’s safe.” He gives her a salute as she lifts off.

 

“Good luck!”

 

She follows the sound of pain, and her heart sinks lower every block she draws closer. It’s close, too close, to Lena’s apartment. And she can’t distinguish who’s screaming, or what’s going on. There’s too much sound to filter out.

 

She lands. It’s only two blocks away from Lena’s apartment building, and in every direction, there are destroyed roads and upturned cars in the street, burning with the acrid smell of scorched rubber. People are lying prone in the shattered streets. She can smell blood and —

 

“supergirl.”

 

She whirls, and catches a blocky fist in her stomach. “Unf!” She feels the asphalt grind to pieces beneath her as her back hits the ground, air vacating her lungs. She feels nauseous (or nauseated, that’s what Lena said, right?) and her hair’s in her face, she can’t breathe. There’s a black shape in the sky above her, blocking the light.

 

“you’re much weaker than i thought,” the man of stone rumbles, clenching his fist. An eerie glow pulses from the cracks in his skin, and Kara feels shudders of weakness ripple down her limbs. “ and now you’re going to pay for putting me in that hell.”

 

It’s green. A green glow.

 

She throws up an arm to block his swing and feels the bone crack under the force of it. “ _AHH_ _!_ ” she cries out, clutching her arm, tears springing to her eyes. Oh _Rao_ , it hurts, it _hurts_. He swings again and she scrambles out of range, almost tripping on crumbled asphalt.

 

“fight me, supergirl,” the alien commands, granite face shearing with a scowl. “ or are you as weak as they said? without your powers, you’re just one of them.” He waves a cliff-like arm towards a group of people cowering behind a car. A crumbly grin sends more waves of dizziness through Kara’s body. “  without your powers, you can’t even protect yourself.” 

 

He lumbers towards the people and Kara’s heart plunges. “NO!” She grabs his shoulder and wrenches it back, sending him stumbling. The Kryptonite’s contained within him. No direct exposure means that she can hopefully hold him off until help comes, because she can feel that agonizing weakness pulsing through her with every staggering step. _Rao, she hopes Lena’s safe._ “Run!” she shouts at the people behind the car. “Get out of here!”

 

His foot connects with her knee and she feels something in there splinter. She’s suddenly on her knees. “scream for me, supergirl.” She screams; can’t help it. Pain explodes down her leg every time she tries to get up. “ that was disappointing,” he rumbles. “ go on. get up.” It takes her four brutal tries. Hot pulses of agony lance down her leg, but she gets up. “ hit me,” the stone man taunts. “ i want to see the great supergirl try.”

 

She swings, too uncontrolled, and he catches her fist. And _squeezes._

 

Her senses are still sharp, so she can hear the distinctive pop as her metacarpals fracture. Agony crowds in on the edges of her vision. She can hear herself scream. Black spots are dancing in her eyes. Distantly, she hears Alex’s voice in her ear. “Kara? Kara, can you hear me?” She tears her hand away ( _oh, please let Lena be okay_ ) and tackles him, driving her shoulder into his chest. There’s a satisfying whoof as she knocks the air out of his lungs. Maybe she can hold out. Just a little longer —

 

— then his fist glances off the side of her head and her world pulses green. And then _black_.

 

— — —

 

They hear the explosions, so close it sounds like it’s right outside, and then they see the blur of red and blue that streaks by the windows. Alex rushes to the balcony and Lena’s behind her, Gatorade still in her hand and head pounding.

 

They look out over what looks like a warzone. Cars burning, people running, fleeing, the smell of dirty smoke and shouts and screams. Lena sees a figure in shining red and blue, a few blocks away, and a fist wraps seething fingers of panic around her heart. “What’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know.” Alex is tapping at her phone, glancing up every few taps to gauge the situation. “I’m sending backup.” She taps her ear and Lena notices the earwig for the first time. “Supergirl? What’s the situation?”

 

Lena can’t see very clearly, but it...doesn’t look like it’s going well. She can see Kara fighting, but she’s not moving as quickly as she usually does. In fact, she’s not moving at all. “Alex!” Her voice rises at the end into a tapered point of panic. “What’s happening down there?” Kara’s down on the ground, struggling to her feet. The strangely large man towering over her lashes out and she sees Kara fall again. “Fuck,” she breathes, terror creeping in her veins like ice.

 

Alex sounds as panicked as Lena feels. “Kara? _Kara_ , can you hear me?” No response.

 

Then they both watch as Supergirl slumps to the ground and doesn’t get up.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I was editing this i realized I accidentally put a meme in it. god save us all.


	6. Chapter 6

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

 

The steady beep of the monitor is many things: annoying, grating, incessant. Anything but reassuring. The screen shows a healthy pulse. Her breathing is regular. And her blood pressure has stabilized. Good, after the incredible amount she’d lost (4 pints, Class III hemorrhage). Lena wonders what blood the doctors had used to give Kara. What kind of antibodies do Kryptonians have? Do they have any?

 

“Lena.” Alex pokes her head in the door. Her eyes are red and bleary, just like Lena’s. “Want anything to eat?”

 

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

 

Alex gives her a dubious look but disappears down the hallway. Lena continues staring at the heart monitor. Perhaps they’ve synthesized Kryptonian blood. Or gotten some from Superman. That would make sense —

 

A pale, bruised hand reaches out to hers and it takes all her willpower to not scream.

 

“Alex,” Kara mumbles, eyes still closed. Her voice is raspy, the deep purple bruises around her throat like chains. “Alex, is Lena okay?”

 

It’s an agonizing moment as Lena swallows her heart. “I’m fine, Kara,” she whispers.

 

Kara’s eyes flutter open and Lena’s heart fractures a little. Her normally blue eyes are bloodshot and it looks like the color has bleached out of them completely. “Lena?” she whispers, voice cracking along the syllables. “You —” She stops, taking deep breaths. Each one looks like it hurts (third and fourth ribs broken, seventh cracked). “Why?”

 

There are so many answers to that. But Kara looks like she’s on the verge of passing out again, and Lena doesn’t want to repeat anything more than she has to. “Alex went to get food,” Lena murmurs, hating how Kara’s hand feels like it’s made of paper skin and glass bones. “She’ll be right back.”

 

Kara’s eyes slide shut again and she winces (minor concussion). “Head hurts,” she croaks. “Did he…”

 

It takes Lena a long confused minute to understand what Kara’s talking about. “The alien? He’s in custody, yes.” Tension slips out of Kara’s shoulders. Lena adds, “There were no casualties.”

 

“Good,” Kara breathes. Her chest rises and falls and Lena hesitates.

 

“...Kara?”

 

No response. She’s out again.

 

And Lena can’t distract herself with medical jargon and technicalities anymore. Enough. She tears her gaze away from the heart monitor like tearing Velcro apart, and looks at Kara properly for the first time since she walked in.

 

The teal hospital scrubs she’s wearing are baggy and make her look even smaller. There’s a lump under the blankets where Kara’s knee is (lower femur shattered, extensive surgery to remove bone chips from her flesh). The lighting is warm — a weak variant of sunlight, from what Lena’s been told — but Kara’s face is pale and drawn. There are bruises under her eyes and bandages swathed around her head, a spot of blood showing through already (they said he’d hit her, hit her twice). Her right hand is a shapeless form of bandages (four phalanges broken, two metacarpals snapped) and Lena knows without needing x-ray vision that Kara’s torso is wrapped in bandages as well. The alien of stone had continued to beat on her even after she’d passed out.

 

Lena clutches the railing by the side of the bed until the surge of angry tears passes. She’s already spent her anger on Alex during their conversation earlier. She doesn’t know who to be mad at anymore — her mother? The alien? Cadmus? — but fury still comes and goes in hot waves.

 

There aren’t any more tubes in Kara’s arms, her healing rate already too fast for them to be of any use. There’s a finger clamp, to measure her pulse, and several other machines Lena recognizes as portable x-rays.

 

Kara’s breathing now. When Lena had rushed in on Alex’s heels after waiting two hours for the DEO team to subdue the stone man and retrieve Kara from the crushed rubble, the doctors had rushed them right back out. It hadn’t been fast enough. Alex had muttered, low and eerily calm, “She’s not breathing.”

 

They’d watched on the other side of the glass as they operated, using lights without any solar-like light waves to prevent Kara from healing too quickly. Lena hadn’t been able to watch. Sure, she had wanted to be a surgeon at one point in her life, and blood and gore doesn’t bother her. But this is _Kara._ It’s Kara Danvers, soft, sweet, caring Kara Danvers under the knife, and Lena can’t watch.

 

It was late afternoon by the time the doctors let Alex and Lena into the room. Kara had been even paler then, the smell of her blood strangely sweet. They’d turned on the sunlamps to a weaker intensity to ensure that things were healing properly. Kara’s got more color in her face now, but she’s still weak.

 

Kryptonite, Lena had overheard. The stone man had been filled with Kryptonite. A synthetic version, unstable but just as effective as the real stuff.

 

Lena had heard whispers in the halls when she passed by. Very few people could create Kryptonite, and Cadmus was at the top of the list. But Alex hadn’t given her any strange glances — had only squeezed her shoulder when they went in to see Kara — so Lena doesn’t care.

 

Alex clears her throat and shuffles in with several takeout boxes in her arms. “I know you said you weren’t hungry,” she begins, cutting off Lena’s protests. “But I know you haven’t eaten anything except for soup all day.” Lena admits defeat when she smells the delicious spices; it’s her favorite Chinese food place. “Kara told me about it,” is Alex’s way of explanation. “Eat.”

 

“Kara woke up when you were gone,” Lena murmurs, accepting the utensils Alex passes her. “She asked for you.”

 

Alex sits up straighter. “Did she say anything else?” Her eyes are piercing and there’s a combat intensity in her posture.

 

“She asked about the alien. I told her he was in custody and that there were no casualties.”

 

Alex’s gaze comes to rest on Kara and Lena has to look away. The unabashed love in Alex’s eyes is painful to see — it’s like a mirror to the past, a look that Lena knows she used to have when she looked at Lex. And now…

 

“She’s going to be fine,” Alex murmurs. Lena doesn’t know who she’s talking to — herself, or Lena. Maybe both. “The sun will help. It’s just a matter of time, now.” Lena abruptly realizes how haggard Alex looks, how dark the shadows under her eyes are.

 

“You should rest,” Lena suggests gingerly, not wanting to overstep. “I’ll watch her.”

 

Alex hesitates, chopsticks hovering over her food. “I will. After.”

 

Lena eats slowly, pacing back and forth. It’s exactly seven paces from the door to the far wall, and eight paces wide. She reads the warning signs on the walls. She examines the various other machines crowded at the head of Kara’s bed like concerned nurses. She reads Kara’s charts at the foot of the bed. “Kara Zor-el,” she mutters. “Is that her real name?”

 

“Her Kryptonian name,” Alex corrects. “She insisted. Said “Supergirl” was too impersonal for people who might have to save her life someday.”

 

“Of course,” Lena murmurs. “Of course.”

 

Alex falls asleep before she even finishes eating, head propped up on her fist. Lena carefully cleans up and moves her chair to Kara’s bedside. Kara’s hand is a blob of gauze and bandages, so she settles for resting her hand on Kara’s wrist. She’s cold, and it takes a few lethargic seconds for Lena to comprehend why that feels so wrong. Kara’s never cold. She runs warmer than humans by several degrees. _She’ll be fine,_ Lena repeats to herself. _She’s going to be fine._

 

“Hey,” she murmurs. Nothing. Lena continues, cautiously, feeling self-conscious. “I know you can’t hear me, but I’m going to...talk, anyways. Because that’s what people do in movies, and I think it’ll make me feel better.” She laughs softly, feels for Kara’s pulse. It jumps under her fingers.

 

“There’s some things we have to talk about, later. Serious things, that I don’t want to talk about now. I just...I know we just saw each other this morning, but I miss you. Seeing you lying there, not breathing…” She takes a difficult breath in.

 

“Remember when you saved me from that alien, a couple weeks ago? My mother threatened you.” Lena scoffs, feeling giddily amused. “I guess she figured out that I wasn’t staying far enough away from you.”

 

The heart monitor beeps. All of a sudden the sound is soothing, like the regular pounding wash of waves on the beach in the background. “I think a lot of the city loves you for the big things you do,” Lena murmurs. “Like putting out fires, or stopping big bad guys, or defusing hostage situations. But I think anybody with superpowers can do the big stuff. Stopping a runaway train is easy when you get press coverage and thousands of adoring fans.” Lena won’t deny it, she’s one of those adoring fans. “But what I love about you is that you don’t just do the big things. You do the little things.”

 

Lena doesn’t know if she’s imagining it or not, but Kara feels a little warmer. “I’ve seen stories of you talking to little kids at the playground. Of how you go around and play basketball with kids in the lower-income neighborhoods, or attend neighborhood watch meetings. You try to keep it under wraps. You try to hide it from me. But you spend so much time helping other people that it’s impossible, Kara. I know when you’re late to lunch it’s probably because you’re probably helping somebody cross the street, or finishing something for Snapper because you were up all night comforting a child who lost his parents.” She smiles a little at the memory. “I know you help out at the juvenile detention center. I know you buy cookies from Girl Scouts. And it’s these little things that really matter. They’re why —”

 

The words catch in her throat and she doesn’t have to energy to force them out.

 

“That’s one of the things I love about you.” It seems easier, less weighty and momentous, if she says “that’s what I love _about_ you” instead of “that’s why I love you”. Lena squeezes Kara’s wrist and measures her breathing with the thump of Kara’s heartbeat. “I love it when you’re happy — _really_ happy, because you bounce up and down and it’s like your smile is too much for you to contain. I love it when you get flustered, because I didn’t know Kryptonians could blush. And you forget what you’re saying, or you run into things, and it’s adorable.”

 

Lena rests her head on the railing. “I miss you. A lot more than I should, I think,” she laughs softly. “But, you know, after talking to your sister, I think I’m ready to...get over myself, I suppose. I know I screwed up. Pretty badly.”

 

It hurts to say, but Lena’s done running. “I’d understand if you didn’t forgive me. I think it’s just...I’m just thankful you’re alive. The other stuff…” Lena yawns, pillowing her head on her arms. Kara’s chest rises and falls. “That can come later.”

 

— — —

 

Alex wakes up and her watch blinks eleven pm.

 

Kara’s awake. Her eyes are open and she’s watching Lena, the latter asleep in a godawful position that she’s going to regret come morning. There’s a tenderness in her gaze that Alex hasn’t seen before, restrained by a confused sorrow. “She hasn’t left your side since you came in,” Alex mumbles, and Kara gives a start.

 

“Alex!”  Relief washes across her face. Her voice is raspy and cracked. “How long have I been out?” Alex gets to her feet and goes around the bed, careful to not disturb Lena. She smooths her fingers across Kara’s forehead, where there’s no white gauze.

 

“Pretty much the entire day. How do you feel?”

 

Kara wiggles the fingers on her left hand and glances over at her right, where Lena’s fingers rest on her wrist. “Like I got hit by a bus full of Kryptonite,” she admits, smiling weakly. “How bad is it?”

 

Alex feels Kara’s hand slip into her own and squeezes it, lightly. “Not too bad anymore,” she explains, delicately. Kara’s eyebrows knit together and Alex looks up at the ceiling. “You, uh, weren’t breathing for a bit. They had to do a blood transfusion.”

 

Kara’s face crumples a little, a host of emotions fluttering across it. “I should have called and waited for backup,” she croaks, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry. He was threatening civilians.”

 

A moment, as Kara avoids Alex’s gaze. “And he was just down the street from Lena’s building,” Alex adds, cautious, and Kara takes a shuddering breath, not opening her eyes.

 

“...Yes.”

 

“You have a minor concussion and ten broken bones. They had to do some reconstructive surgery on your knee. No internal damage, which is apparently miraculous.” Alex squeezes her hand. Her voice trembles, just the tiniest bit. Something only Supergirl could — would — notice. Kara watches her with sad eyes and squeezes her hand back. “Promise you won’t do something that stupid again.”

 

Her voice is distraught and grave with painful sincerity. “I promise.” Kara looks down at Lena, whose face is now in a uncomfortable frown. “When did Lena..how did she get here? Did you..did you tell her?” Her face twists in discomfort just at the suggestion of the betrayal.

 

Alex shakes her head. “You’ll have to wait for her to wake up. You two have a lot to talk about.”

 

Kara worries her bottom lip, reaching out to brush Lena’s hair from her face. “Do you think...she’ll forgive me for lying to her?” Alex hesitates too long and Kara’s face falls. “She hates me, doesn’t she?” she asks, voice a bare whisper of despair. “She _hates_ me.”

 

Alex shakes her head sharply. “ _No_ , Kara, that’s not it. She — would she be sleeping here if she hated you?” Alex crosses her fingers and hopes Lena will wake up soon. “She’s going to forgive you. I promise. You just need to be...prepared.” Kara opens her mouth to ask more questions and Alex raises her eyebrows and a warning index finger. “Uh uh. No more questions. You’re going to have to wait until she wakes up.”

 

That doesn’t take as long as either of them think it will, because a few moments later, James bursts through the door, expression a messy mix of relief and distress. “Kara!” Alex moves out of the way so the two can embrace gingerly. Winn is close on his tail, tablet in hand. His expression too is a combination of anxiety and relief. Mon-el is behind them, silent and stone-faced.

 

James looks like he wants to tackle her in a hug, but settles for a soft hand pat. “How are you feeling?”

 

It’s comforting to see Kara’s smile again. “Like I got hit by a bus of Kryptonite.”

 

Alex lets the three crowd around the bed, smiling a little at the fondness on Kara’s face as her friends worry over her. Her sister might be superhuman, but it’s not without the help of her very human friends.

 

A sleepy mumble draws her attention to the other side of the bed. Lena rubs her eyes, and looks around with uncomprehending eyes. “Kara?” she mutters, wincing as she stretches. A jolt of recognition sparks in her gaze and she finally notices the rest of the people in the room. Alex is struck by the abrupt change from vulnerable twenty-four year old to the CEO of L Corp — straight back, cool demeanor, guarded steel in her eyes. “Mr. Olsen. Mr. Schott.” She acknowledges them, not even fazed when she sees Mon-el at the end of the bed. “Mike.” Her eyes brush over Alex. “Agent Danvers.” Alex doesn’t quite know what to make of this sudden shift to professionalism, but then Lena meets Kara’s eyes and that business-like exterior fades like a weak fog in sunlight.

 

“Hey,” Kara murmurs, and then there’s a guilty pain in Lena’s green eyes. Alex catches Winn and James’ eyes and looks at the door meaningfully. Mon-el looks uncomfortable, already heading for the door.

 

“We’ll be right outside,” James murmurs, and Kara gives him a thankful smile. “Ms. Luthor.” They dip their heads in a weird procession of formality as they file out of the room.

 

Lena gives Alex a slightly panicked look and Alex mouths, “Just tell her the truth.” And then she closes the door.

 

— — —

 

Kara watches as Lena swallows and stands, keeping her fingers just barely brushing Kara’s wrist. Her eyes are stormy and troubled. She’s avoiding Kara’s gaze, too.

 

Alex’s words keep echoing in her head: _“You just need to be...prepared.”_ Kara doesn’t want to push, but... “Lena?” she tries.

 

Lena jerks her hands away, tucking them together, close to her chest. “I, um, give me a moment.” She takes a few breaths — in, out, in, out, eyes closed — and then grasps the railing with fate-heavy fingers. “I’ve always known you were Supergirl.”

 

Her chest cavity seems to buzz with electricity, disbelief shivering down her arms in ripples of gooseflesh. She’s...always known? “Since the beginning? The very beginning?”

 

Lena nods incrementally, staring at the thread of the blanket thrown over Kara. Her voice is electric quiet. “Since you walked into my office with your cousin.”

 

Kara remembers all their conversations — the strange smiles, the concealed tone of amusement, the innuendos — and she wants to laugh. It’s too late to stop a little snort from escaping her mouth and Lena’s head jerks up, eyes shining wet in the faux sunlight. Kara claps at hand to her mouth. “No, no, I wasn’t laughing at you, I’m just — you —” Kara huffs out an incredulous chuckle, leaning back against the pillows. “You’ve known. This entire time.”

 

And Lena seems to crumple before her eyes. Starting with a downward tug of her lips, she shudders, back shaking and fingers tightening around the plastic railing. “It’s my fault,” she mutters. “All of this is my fault, because I’m an _idiot._ ” She spits the word like poison.

 

Kara watches her with inscrutable eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She wants to keep it to that but anger, creeping up from her toes and into her fingers, turns her words bitter. “Why did you let me believe that you didn’t like me for who I really was?”

 

Lena’s back stiffens and she stares at the blankets. “I was afraid,” she mutters. “I was afraid of losing you, and afraid of having you. I wasn’t...if you had told me, then I would’ve had to face you. Pretending I didn’t know was easier.”

 

“Easier for you,” Kara accuses, and Lena nods, a sharp jerk. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would you be afraid of facing me?”

 

“Because I knew you had feelings for me,” Lena mumbles, words flowing out in a rush. “And I couldn’t give you what you wanted.”

 

“So you don’t like me after all.” Kara laughs, humorless. “Should have said that earlier.” Lena’s head snaps up, eyes flashing.

 

“I _do_ like you, Kara **.** But I’m fucked up. I mean — look at this. Look at this situation.” She waves her hand at their surroundings. “I’m pretty sure I just screwed up the best thing in my life because I was too afraid of doing things wrong. I was trying to protect you from me and I ended up hurting you even more.” A shuddering breath. “The entire thing was selfish. I thought I was doing the right thing.” She shakes her head, smiling sad and mournful. “You should probably hate me.”

 

Kara’s head still hurts, and it takes a moment to gather her thoughts. They’re scattered in bundles of emotion, barely coherent but shot through with a distinct feeling of betrayal. Anger comes easily, jumping to the tip of her tongue. Hurt follows quick on its heels, and then the urge to understand, reluctant but present, slinks along. Kara curls her good hand into a fist and breathes steadily before speaking.

 

“I...I don’t _hate_ you, Lena. But you’re right. What you did — that was selfish, and it hurts. I thought —” Here she almost gives into the shuddering anger-sorrow, but Lena looks so shattered that Kara’s afraid it might break her completely. “I thought if I told you I was Supergirl, then you would hate _me_ **.** I thought I would lose you if I told you the truth.” She laughs, shaking her head. “You know, I spent…. _days_ **,** agonizing over what to do. I even hoped that you already knew, but — not like this. I ended up thinking that you only liked Supergirl, not Kara Danvers. I was ready to resign myself to that, you know? This morning? I was going to take what I could get.”

 

Kara’s voice rises, growing emphatic. Those long-hidden emotions leak to the surface in sharper and sharper words. “Do you know how much that hurt? Thinking that you only liked the superhero? I even gave — I gave you chances, Lena, to see if you would prove me wrong. When we went to see the movie, I thought that I was mistaken. You looked at me like…like…” Kara finds the words escaping her.

 

Lena murmurs, “Like you put the stars in the sky.”

 

“And last night, I was hoping that you would say something. Confess, or something, but then you said some — some _shit_ about happiness and the only thing I could think about was _you!_ ”  

 

Lena’s expression reminds Kara of a student receiving a punishment from a teacher that she knows she deserves. Her eyes are glistening but her cheeks are dry. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me anymore,” she mutters, sounding too much like she’s cutting a business deal. “I’ll leave.”

 

Kara feels thunder and fury in her chest, and sees Alex waiting outside, and nods. Her own voice sounds alien. Cold. “I think that would be better for the both of us.”

 

Lena looks at the wall when she nods, a sharp, jerky motion. She leaves without a word, chin held high, shoulders ramrod, and Kara waits until she’s gone to let the tears flow.

 

Alex comes in and slides into the bed with her. Kara buries her face in Alex’s shoulder and cries. They’re tears of anger, of betrayal, of pain and the inexorable undercurrent of love that she has for Lena. They’re tears of guilt and fear, of something once precious now broken.

 

“I told her it was better if we spent some time apart,” Kara mutters into Alex’s shirt. “Alex, I...why?” The word breaks in her throat. “Why did she do this?”

 

Alex is careful to avoid Kara’s injuries, rubbing her back and holding her closer. “Sometimes we do things out of fear,” she murmurs, “to protect the people we love. Lena...she’s lost people in her life. People that she cared for, people who cared for her.” Kara sniffles. “It’s not an excuse, of course. But she — she cares about you, Kara, and that’s why she did what she did. Even if it was the wrong thing.”

 

There’s a long pause as Kara collects herself. It doesn’t help that she can hear Lena down the hall, in the bathroom, crying. “I understand,” she murmurs, voice scratchy. “But I’m still _mad._ ”

 

“You’re allowed to be mad, Kara. She hurt you. Don’t pretend like she didn’t.” There’s a note of bitterness there that makes Kara wonder. She knows — and it’s a when, not if — that when she works through her feelings, she’s going to forgive Lena. She wonders if Alex will. “You’re not supposed to forgive her right off the bat, Kara. Let yourself feel.”

 

So Kara does, and Alex holds her.

 

— — —

 

Lena doesn’t really remember what happens after Kara tells her to leave. It’s a little past ten in the evening when she slips out of the DEO, calling an Uber to take her home (dangerous, yes, but maybe she deserves anything that happens to her). She hates her dark apartment and feels the urge of the bottle again; it’s with a mixture of relief and despair when she realizes she doesn’t have any more strong booze.

 

Everything feels half-numb and her limbs seem to move of their own accord. She gets in the shower, puts on different clothes, gets in bed, closes her eyes and stares at the inside of her eyelids. Maybe it’s finally shock, she muses. It’s distant, the memories of what she and Kara have done in this bed. Like seeing something through one of those 25 cent viewing machines at the top of the Empire State Building. It doesn’t feel like she’s the person who was there. Somebody else, maybe, but not her.

 

That Lena Luthor’s gone. How could she have been so naϊve? So strong-willed that she believed herself over the increasing clues that Kara wasn’t okay?

 

She doesn’t have the strength to cry. There’s too much guilt now, for that.

 

There’s a text from an unlisted number when she wakes up at four in the morning. An echo of pain still bounces in her skull, occasionally hitting something that hurts when she stares at the bright phone screen. It’s Alex.

 

[Alex]: Can you come in to the DEO today? You need to sign nondisclosure agreements.

 

Nothing about Kara. Which is to be expected, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Lena looks at her list of things to do — grant proposals, financial reports, employee complaints and potential hires — and texts Alex back.

 

[Lena]: Does the afternoon work?

[Alex]: Yup. Heads up ,there’ll be some preliminary information they need to get so you can access the building: fingerprints, retinal scan, etc.

[Lena]: Sounds good.

 

It’s a painful morning. She’s brain-dulled by her towering pile of work, doubled by the fact that she hadn’t done anything at all yesterday, so she doesn’t have time to dwell too much on Kara. It’s still not productive at all, though, when she’s constantly distracted by delusional daydreams about seeing Kara again at the DEO. She’ll read a paragraph, then drift off for a few minutes….then snap her attention back for another paragraph, then drift off again…

 

Noon comes on quicksilver wings and before she knows it, it’s time. She ignores the rumblings of hunger from skipped breakfast and lunch and arranges her transportation.

 

The DEO is unimpressive from the outside. Lena doesn’t really pay attention to her surroundings any more than she did yesterday. It’s a boring process, with a bunch of forms to fill out that Lena does without really reading them. She should be concerned about the fact that they’re going to have her DNA and retinal scan on file, but she can’t bring herself to care. When her mother comes after her again, Lena’s not going to hide.

 

After she’s done signing all the necessary forms, an agent comes to collect her. “Agent Danvers wants to see you,” he tells her. Lena assumes Alex — after all, wouldn’t they call Kara Supergirl? — and so she’s utterly taken aback when it’s blonde hair and blue eyes that she comes face-to-face with in the conference room.

 

“Hey,” Kara says, giving her a weak smile. Lena closes her mouth with some difficulty.

 

“..Hey?” Lena gives her a quick once-over, out of habit. Except for the hospital scrubs, there’s no sign of her ever having been hurt.

 

Kara folds her hands together. “I know I said I wanted some time apart, but I was thinking, last night, about everything you said, and…” Her expression, apologetic, is absurd. Lena’s the one who fucked it up. Why is Kara looking so apologetic? “I’m not absolving you completely of fault. But it’d be unfair if I didn’t admit that I helped a little.”

 

“Helped...what?” Lena ventures. She’s still unsure that this is really happening.

 

“Helped this whole thing along. I thought it’d break you if I told you who I was, and that was a stupid excuse. I should have told you earlier. I think…” Her hair bounces as she shakes her head. “I need to learn to say no to you. It’s partially my fault, for not being able to. I went along with it. I’m not completely innocent.”

 

Lena finds her vocabulary lacking. What does Kara want her to say to that? “I, um..”

 

Kara seems anxious. “I’m still...I’m still angry about it. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Lena.” Her face twists. “I just wanted to make sure you knew it wasn’t completely your fault.” She makes to leave but pauses by the door, mouth opening and closing on unsaid words. Finally she settles on some: “I’ll see you...later?” accompanied by a soft, barely-there smile.

 

Lena blinks, and realizes she needs to respond. “Um, yeah.” There’s still problems. There’s still talks to be had. But this is promise, and Lena grasps it with both hands. “Later.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! no cliffhangers this time. lemme know what you thought!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew ok I've been working a shit ton this past week so I just finished this chapter....editing has been minimal. anyways. Enjoy!

Up in the stratosphere, a little lower than cruising altitude, drifts a speck of dark blue.

 

The air here is thin, sub zero; Kara feels neither but can see her breath steaming crystalline in the late afternoon sunlight. The horizon stretches out endless, clouds lazy and wispy at the edges, tickling the bottoms of her feet. Faintly, she can glimpse the moon.

 

Here she feels stronger, incrementally. Enough so that she can still hear the bustle of life in the city 30,000 feet below her, even though she’s up so high just to get away from it.

 

A time like this — when she’s feeling lost, hurt, adrift in a ocean of emotion — usually calls for drastic measures, like some quiet time in space, collecting pieces of broken satellites to take her mind off things. But the city has been on high alert since the stone man’s attack, and she can’t afford to take even a few minutes off. The fact that there had been no casualties from the attack had been pure luck. She isn’t going to rely on it again.

 

The attack. Her knee twinges at the memory of it, and she massages it unconsciously. After analyzing the Kryptonite, Alex had found an unmistakable signature compound that only came from a certain laboratory — Lillian Luthor’s. Kara does another quick auditory sweep of the city, listening for any signs of trouble that the police can’t handle. Satisfied, her train of thought swings automatically towards the elephant in her head: Lena.

 

Alex had told her something, earlier, that’s now stuck in her gray matter. “ _You’re mad, right?”_ she’d asked, as they leaned against the balcony railing, watching night shadows settle over the city. _“About her lying to you.”_

 

Kara had nodded, stone silent.

 

“ _I think you should reconsider,”_ Alex had suggested, gingerly. Kara had looked at her, astonished.

 

“ _Reconsider? Reconsider what?”_

 

Alex had been so gentle with the subject, so careful. “ _Whose fault it is.”_

 

Kara had laughed a little, incredulous. She’d wondered why Alex was being so cautious with the subject, wondered why Alex was asking her to reconsider instead of cementing a grudge in place against Lena. _“It’s both of ours,”_ she’d said, but she’d been furious. Angry to the point of coldness. She hadn’t really meant it.

 

“ _Who lied first?”_ Alex had asked, every word measured, gaze fixed on Kara. Kara hadn’t understood why she was so adamant about it. “ _I’m not saying it’s all your fault, Kara. But it’s not all Lena’s.”_

 

Thinking about it now, Kara’s fury feels weak, childish. It’d been stubborn anger.

 

She drags her hand through a passing cloud, liking the way water droplets gather on her fingertips. _It’s not all your fault. But it isn’t all hers, either._

 

_Who lied first?_

 

Kara’s hand clenches into a fist, water dripping from her hand. _She’d_ lied first. If she’d told the truth earlier, had revealed her secret instead of hiding her own fear behind the guise of worry...She’d told Lena that they needed time apart and Lena had left, shoulders bowed under the burden of guilt that should’ve been _Kara’s_ to bear.

 

“Shit,” she tells the sky, distraught. “It’s _my_ fault.”

 

It’s hers, it’s all hers. She’d lied first, she’d allowed Lena to go ahead and set the rules. And then she’d gotten _mad_ at Lena for it. “Shit,” she repeats, and leaves the clouds behind.

 

Lena’s alone in her office and that’s all Kara gets before she comes to a sharp halt outside the balcony door, wind gusting around her body. Lena’s absorbed in reading something and doesn’t seem to notice her arrival — a good thing, because Kara hasn’t thought through what she’s gonna say at all.

 

_I’m sorry, this is actually all my fault. Don’t beat yourself up over any of it. It’s all my fault. I’m the one who started it. It’s not your fault. Please, I’m the one who needs forgiveness, not you. It’s all my faul—_

 

“Kara?” Lena’s staring at her through the window, eyes wide and perplexed. “Is everything okay?”

 

Open door, feet on the floor. “Lena,” Kara begins, breathless with guilt, “it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who started this. I shouldn’t have kept my identity secret, I shouldn’t have gone with it, I shouldn’t have let it get to this point. It’s _all_ on me. It’s my fault.”

 

Lena stares at her. Her expression is wry. A moment of silence, then, “You can’t possibly expect me to just agree with you.”

 

“Wha- why not?” Kara doesn’t get it; she just confessed, took the blame, claimed fault. Shouldn’t Lena be relieved?

 

“Because I know you, Kara,” Lena says, eyes narrowed, “and you like to be all _noble_ and take the blame. I lied, too, did you forget that?” She shakes her head, lips quirking up. “At least your reasons for lying were understandable.”

 

Kara crosses her arms, bewildered. “What do you mean? How is my lie more _understandable?_ ”

 

“It’s for safety’s sake,” Lena explains, voice calm, like she’s explaining a mathematical proof. “Your secret is a secret for a reason. To protect your friends and family. To give you a real life.” Her voice is triumphant, edged with sadness. “Mine...there wasn’t a good reason for that.”

 

Kara gapes at her. “Are we really arguing over whose lie is more understandable?”  


Lena huffs, mouth turning up at the corners. “Of course not. We’re arguing over whose fault it is.”

 

“No, because it’s mine,” Kara declares, just as Lena adds, “It’s mine, obviously.”

 

They stare at each other. Kara exhales, trying a different tack. “Lena, contrary to your mother’s beliefs, not everything is your fault.”

 

Lena’s posture stiffens, voice going chilly. “But I lied —”

 

Kara’s voice rises. “So did I! My reasons for lying went out the window when we kissed. They became _excuses,_ Lena, not good reasons. I should’ve told you then, before we slept together.” She sighs, spreading out her hands, palms up. “Lena, I was scared. That’s not a good reason for lying.”

 

When Lena speaks, her voice is resigned to amusement. “I guess we were in the same boat, then.” They look at each other. Kara’s run out of things to say. Lena gives a smile, a hesitant one that asks for new beginnings. “So, how about a 50/50 split of the blame?”

 

“You’re kidding,” Kara laughs. Lena’s not. Kara stops laughing. “You’re serious.”

 

“We both fucked up, didn’t we?”

 

“...well, yes, but I —”

 

“ — so 50/50. Because you started it, and I continued it. Fair?” Lena raises an eyebrow, as if this is a business deal and they’re not negotiating blame.

 

“60/40?” Kara ventures.

 

Lena shrugs. “Sure, I’ll take more —”

 

Kara backtracks so fast she almost trips. “Woah, no, okay, that’s not what I meant.” They’re both laughing now, at the absurdity of it. “50/50 works, that’s good.” Lena smiles, quick and hesitant. “So….now what?” Kara reaches up to adjust glasses that aren’t there. “I don’t like being mad at you.”

 

Lena looks as unsure as Kara feels. “What comes after arguments? Forgiveness?”

 

“I forgive you,” Kara says, without hesitation. “You were scared. I get that. I was scared, too.” Her expression turns sheepish. “Terrified, actually.”

 

Lena pauses, words hovering at the tip of her tongue. “Are you….sure?” She hurries to explain. “I still hurt you, Kara. I don’t want you to go and forgive me off the bat because _you_ feel bad.”

 

Kara shakes her head, emphatic. “No, I’m done being angry, I...I do feel guilty, but that’s not why I’m forgiving you. I’m forgiving you because I understand.” She sighs, gives Lena a guilty smile. “Also, I really don’t like being mad at you when I’ve done something wrong, too.”

 

Lena shakes her head, smiling. “Well, then. I’ve already sent apology flowers to your office, but...I guess they could count as “I forgive you” flowers, too.”

 

Kara imagines another botanical explosion across her desk. “Oh. Okay, then.” Their smiles are both shy, painfully so for two people who’ve already sunk deep into each others’ vulnerability. “Are we...good, then?”

 

“Yeah. We’re good.” Lena’s expression turns pensive, a little calculating. Kara’s learned that this means trouble, usually the kind that Lena delights in and only sends Kara into paroxysms of worry. “Have you figured out where the Kryptonite came from, or how the alien got out?”

 

There’s no point in hiding the truth from Lena; this is a fact. Still, that doesn’t mean Kara’s going to spill the beans just like that. “We know that the Kryptonite is synthetic,” she offers, and Lena dismisses it with a shake of her head.

 

“And?”

 

The information comes, carrying reluctance along with it. “And it’s chemically indistinguishable from the Kryptonite in Corben.”

 

“I knew it,” Lena breathes. “I want to talk to him.”

 

“Wh- talk to the _alien?_ ”

 

“Yes.” She recognizes Kara’s immediate hesitance and rises to meet her objections. “Kara, I know my mother. I know how how she works, what kind of questions to ask. I can get answers out of him.”

 

“I don’t like the idea of you around him,” Kara mutters, arms crossed. “He’s still a dangerous, violent criminal, Lena. _And_ one of your mother’s cronies.”

 

“I can deal with the latter,” Lena insists, confident. “And the first part is why you’ll be there.” She pushes a little more, sensing that Kara’s about to give in. “Kara, I’ll tell you what I’m going to ask him, write out everything, like a script. No aggravation, promise.” She’s not sure if that’s what Kara’s worried about — her going off, riling up the stone man — but she covers that base, just in case.

 

Kara sighs. Her shoulders sag back, and Lena knows she’s won. “Okay,” she says, “fine. You don’t have to tell me what you’re asking, though, that’s not necessary. We just need to know a few things. How he got out without alerting anyone. Where he got the Kryptonite.” She runs a hand through her hair, messing up the immaculate curls. “Alex will brief you tomorrow. It's going to take a while.” She’s apologetic, but Lena couldn’t give fewer shits.

 

“I’d rather help catch Lillian than sit through another meeting.” She shrugs. “It might be calmer, really.”

 

“Okay,” Kara exhales. “So tomorrow, eight? I’ll pick you up?”

 

Lena nods, excitement worming electric through her gut. It finally feels like she can _do_ something. “I’ll see you then.”

 

Kara hesitates, steps closer, wavers. Lena’s heartbeat jumps. She doesn’t move away. Kara leans in. It’s a quick kiss on the cheek, light and barely-there. “Bye,” she murmurs, breathless.

 

Lena looks up at her, looking as nervous and delighted as Kara feels. “Bye,” she mumbles.

 

Her smile warms Kara’s chest as she flies away from L Corp, headed towards CatCo. As promised, various bouquets are spread out over her office space. From pink carnations, red and white roses, to purple hyacinths, it’s a veritable garden. James is gazing over her floral jungle with amusement when she arrives, wrestling her hair into something not windswept.

 

“Lena’s flower shop must love her,” he jokes. Kara perks up; that’s an auspicious start. “Did you two talk?”

 

“Yeah. We figured it out. It — it really was my fault, you know?” Kara starts to move bouquets out of the way, calculating how many more vases she needs from last time. “Since I lied about who I was first. And she continued it, too, so it’s really both our faults.” She laughs, wry. “We agreed on an even split of the blame. Equality.”

 

James doesn’t say anything for a bit, just examines her with that weird, soft smile. “You really like her.”

 

Kara makes a vague face. “Well, I mean —”

 

James gives her a look, the kind that means “don’t get started, I know what you’re doing”, and she stops.

 

“...yes. Yes, I really, really like her.” It’s not quite a confession, but the gentle exhalation of the words comes close. She meets James’s eyes, worried. “You still don’t trust her, do you?”

 

“No, no. That’s not it.” Sunlight falls through one of the windows and illuminates a bunch of white tulips, the petals glowing in the light. “Honestly? I’m a bit worried that you like her so much it’s clouding your judgement.”

 

Kara relaxes a little. Is that all he’s worried about? “That’s what Lena said,” she chuckles. “I’ve thought it through, James. I know what I’m doing this time. And I trust her.” He’s still unsure. “You’ll see. She’s helping interrogate the alien tomorrow.”

 

His expression crinkles. “Is that wise?”

 

“She knows how her mother operates,” Kara reasons. Lena’s explanations are valid; she might as well reuse them. “She’ll know what kind of questions to ask, what to look for. You have to admit, it’ll be useful to get any insight into Lillian Luthor.”

 

He acquiesces to that. “While we’re on the topic of Lena,” he adds, slowly, “do you think she’s free on Saturday?”

 

Kara gazes at him curiously. “I don’t know. What for?”

 

His shrug is elaborately casual. “Oh, I just thought it’d be funny to watch her sweep the board at game night.” His smile grows as Kara realizes what he’s saying. “You should invite her next time. So we all can properly meet her.” It’s a chance, an opportunity.

 

Kara beams, and tackles him into a hug. “Thanks, James.”

 

She can’t see his smile but she can feel it, warming the air. “Anytime, Kara.”

 

— — —

 

From her perspective, the cell is fragile — suspended by steel cables, walls of glass — and the alien inside is anything but.

 

Alex reassures her that the cell is triple reinforced with titanium latticework and electrified wires. The glass is layered, in a technique that makes it almost indestructible. It’s suspended in the middle of the circular room, a platform extending to the center so they can talk to him. Guards ring the balcony, specially designed stun guns in their hands.

 

Inside the cell is an artificially-enhanced gravity field. The stone man still moves with deadly weight despite it, pacing the length of the cell with two strides. From the other side of the glass, Lena finally gets a good look at Kara’s assailant.

 

Her first impression is of enormous size. Seeing him in comparison to normal human beings is akin to seeing a tricked-out monster truck next to a sedan: both have similar basic functions and organization, but the comparison stops there. The alien looms over them at seven feet, skin ashy gray and shot through with cracks, eyes and mouth nothing more than glorified holes in his stone skin. He resembles a piece of living lava rock, bits and pebbles crumbling away as he paces. The cell floor is already covered in a fine layer of dust from his movements.

 

“What’s his name?” Lena asks, unable to peel her eyes away. Watching him walk, a boulder in constant motion, is almost hypnotizing.

 

Kara is to her left, Alex to her right. “A rough translation is ‘he who makes graves’,” Alex explains. “It’s impossible for humans to pronounce, but his nickname is Moles.”

 

“Ironic,” Kara mutters. Her scowl is dark, arms crossed and posture tight. “Can he hear us?”

 

There’s a control operator high up on the opposing wall; Alex gives him a nod and gestures to her ear. The stone man turns.

 

If Lena was unsure about the silencing capabilities of the cell before, she isn’t now. As soon as the operator turns off the silencing field, the sound of rattling rocks and shifting dirt meets their ears. Every movement is grinding, leaving puffs of dust in the air.

 

“supergirl. I see you’ve brought friends this time.” His voice is tires on gravel, the S’s sibilant like grains of sand sliding. He cocks his head to the side. His eyes, dim coals set in his face, no longer glow green. “I didn’t do a very good job of killing you,” he rumbles, disappointed. “will you give a man down on his luck another chance?”

 

“She’s not here to talk to you,” Lena interrupts, and dull red eyes swing to her. “How did you get out of prison? Who helped you?”

 

“why, the resemblance is uncanny.” There’s the sound of grinding rock, Moles’s shoulders shake, and Lena realizes he’s laughing. “cunning runs in the family, I suppose. you don’t recognize your own mother’s handiwork?”

 

“I know she was involved.” Lena can feel tension radiating off of both the Danvers sisters: worry and anxiety from Kara, intense concentration off Alex. “Tell us who helped you get out of prison and we’ll reinstate your visitor privileges once you return.”

 

“nobody visits me, Luthor,” he spits, eyes squinting. The gash in his face that is his mouth curls, until Lena recognizes it as a leer. “unless you’d like to keep me company?”

 

Lena ignores him and recalls her earlier briefing.

 

 _“His species requires an almost constant contact with natural materials. Stone, wood, even some kinds of metal. If they go too long without it, they’ll go crazy. It’s like holding your breath for too long,”_ Alex had said. “ _It’s almost torture.”_

 

“You’re going to wish you took that offer,” Lena says. She glances at Alex, who nods. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time alone if you don’t cooperate.”

 

His eyes narrow. “alone?”

 

“Solitary,” Kara says. “With a synthetic cell.”

 

His face contorts into agony at the suggestion of it. “you wouldn’t,” he threatens, fist grinding. “you wouldn’t _dare_. ” Pebbles rattle onto the floor of the cell.

 

“We wouldn’t hesitate,” Lena declares, sounding confident but feeling nowhere near it. “Tell us who helped you escape.”

 

Moles rumbles, face shifting from terror to cunning. A shower of dust slides off his shoulders. “it’s funny how alike you two are.” He relaxes with a sound of shifting rock. “using threats to get what you want. you like to think you're different.” A harsh laugh. "but that's a lie." 

 

The words go in and out of her ears without much effort. Lena’s used to hearing that, usually from Lillian herself. “Maybe we are,” she says, unfazed. “I don’t see how that matters, though. You’re going back to prison no matter what. Why don’t you do what you can to make yourself more comfortable?” She stares at the dull red coals of his eyes. “Give us the names of the people who helped you escape. You don’t owe them anything. Why stay quiet?” A low rumble, like the premonition of an earthquake, starts in his chest. Lena doesn’t back off.  “It’s only hurting you.”

 

“you don’t know that,” Moles says, sneering. “your mother has access to far more than you realize.” He leans close, face almost pressing against the glass. “loyalty is earned, not bought.”

 

“Ask about the Kryptonite,” Kara mutters, glaring at Moles. Her knuckles are white on the railing. Lena fights the urge to reach out and put her hand on top of Kara’s.

 

“The Kryptonite,” Lena asks Moles, “how did she infuse it? Subepidermal injections, or did you swallow something?”

 

Moles narrows his eyes to little red slits. “I’m no scientist, little Luthor. it hurt. that much I know.”

 

“Where did you get it? At the prison, or somewhere else?”

 

A landslide shrug. “not the prison.” He says nothing more, an almost-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

Alex makes a noise of frustration. She gestures to the operator and there’s a sudden silence in the room. She turns away from the cell and motions for them to do the same. “This isn’t working,” she mutters. “We need another way to get him to talk.”

 

“He didn’t like the idea of a synthetic cell.” Kara’s expression is almost as stony as Moles’s. “We can use that. Give him a taste of it.”

 

Alex’s face darkens. Lena doesn’t like the look of it. “I’ll do the talking, then.”

 

“No. Let me.”

 

They both look at Lena — mirrored concern on their faces, more doubt on Alex’s and fear on Kara’s. “Why you?” Kara asks, silencing Alex’s rising protest.

 

“He knows how my mother works. He says we’re similar. He’s afraid of her. It won’t take much for me to convince him that he should be afraid of me, too.”

 

“I don’t like it,” Kara mutters, but Alex is nodding.

 

“You’re sure?”

 

Lena nods. She’s been taught cold and callous and manipulative her entire life. It’s almost second nature, the skills that come with her last name. “I’m sure.”

 

Moles doesn’t stop pacing when they turn the sound back on. Lena meets his eyes, willing calm into her expression. “You say my mother and I are alike.”

 

“like peas in a pod.”

 

“Then you _know_ I won’t hesitate to put you in a synthetic cell for the rest of your sentence if you continue to be uncooperative.” There must be something believable in Lena’s tone this time, because he stops pacing. “Or until you lose your mind.” Lena shrugs, as if this is trivial. _The ‘if you’re fucking stupid’ shrug,_ Lex had called it. “Your choice.”

 

Moles grinds his jaw. It’s nails on chalkboard, metal on slate. Kara grimaces, prying her hands off the railing. There are imprints of her palms in the metal.

 

“on one condition.” Lena lets an eyebrow quirk up, but says nothing else. “protection. from your mother.”

 

That’s reasonable. “You’ll be protected to the best of our ability.”

 

“you know that betrayal is not taken lightly in the Luthor household,” Moles rumbles. “you’ll have to do better than your best.”

 

Lena stiffens. _Betrayal is not taken lightly in the Luthor household, Lena._ Her mother’s words, verbatim.

 

“You won’t be hurt,” Alex cuts in, voice sharp. “If you tell us everything you know.”

 

“you can’t guarantee that.”

 

“We can if you help us catch Lillian,” Lena says, voice stronger than expected. “Once she’s in custody, we’ll shut down all her connections. She’ll have bigger things to worry about than you.”

 

Another painful grind of his jaw. Kara turns away, face ashen. “very well,” he decides, after an eternity. “I’ll help you. but I don’t know anything about the Kryptonite.”

 

“And how do we know you’re not lying about that?” Alex asks, eyes narrowed.

 

“I want you to catch her,” Moles growls. “why would I lie?”

 

“Tell us anything you remember,” Lena tries, “anything at all. Was it a different building? A van?”

 

“another building. it had doors that I could fit through." He makes an explosive sound of derision. “smelled like chemicals. sulfur.”

 

Alex, who’s recording the information, looks up. “What kind of rock was it built on? Can you remember any of the materials in the building?”

 

A low rumble of thought. “there was an underground space. some sort of cavern.” He shakes his head. “lots of concrete. that’s all.”

 

Alex jots that down. “How’d you get there from the prison?”

 

“they knocked me out after I escaped. I woke up blindfolded.” He closes his eyes, recalling. “everything hurt. I got mad.”

 

Kara mutters under her breath. “Understatement.”

 

Alex nods to herself. “Okay. Kara, Lena, take this to Winn. Try to start narrowing down locations. I’ll get the names from him.” She tears off the sheet from her notepad.

 

Lena’s all too glad to leave. She’s out the door and down the hallway in seconds, Kara hurrying behind her. “Lena.” She needs to get away. “Lena, slow _down_.”

 

“Sorry.” She slows down minutely. Kara’s got superspeed, anyways. She can see shades of concern flit across Kara’s face out of the corner of her eye, and feels guilty. She slows down to a regular walking pace.

 

“Lena, talk to me.”

 

“I’m fine,” Lena assures, flashing her a smile to prove it. “Don’t worry.”

 

A huff. “Don’t lie to me, Lena, please. What he said in there isn’t true. You’re nothing like your mother.”

 

“Then why did I threaten him like her?” Lena’s stomach clenches at the thought. “I’m a Luthor, Kara. He can escape Lillian’s grasp. _I_ can’t.”

 

“Your last name doesn’t define you,” Kara hisses as they pass several agents. “You’re not your mother, Lena —”

 

“Hey! Alex said you had something for...me…” Winn trails off when he sees both their expressions. “Um...bad time?”

 

“Not at all,” Lena declares. She hands the paper to Winn. “Here’s what we have.” She ignores Kara’s peeved look. “It’s not a lot, but based on it, I have an idea of where the lab might be.”

 

Winn squints at the four bullet points on the paper: _chemical/sulfur smell; alien-designed building; underground space?; concrete._ “You know based off of this?”

 

Lena gives a half nod. “I have an...idea.” They gather around Winn’s computer. He settles into the chair and cracks his fingers. “Back when my brother was in charge of the company, there was a whole department dedicated to shell companies that had labs in the city. He had them designed to fit different alien species so he could do “research” on them.” It’s a bitter reminder of her family’s legacy. “When Lex was arrested, a lot of these companies went bankrupt and were shut down. As far as I know, most of them are still empty.”

 

Kara’s expression is still displeased from their earlier conversation, but she’s intrigued. “You think Lillian’s making Kryptonite at one of these labs?”

 

Lena nods. “They’re definitely all equipped with the capabilities for it.”

 

Winn accesses L Corp files through his computer and pulls up a search bar. “What should I look for?”

 

“Uh, try...try the files before 2008. Investment records?” Winn scrolls through them and Lena shakes her head. “Try subsidiary records.”

 

“What would they be called?” Winn asks, clicking through a few of the files. “You said they were labs? Most of these are distributors and manufacturers.” He types _laboratory_ into the search terms and nothing comes up. “Yeah, no labs here.”

 

Lena purses her lips. “That’s strange. There were a significant number of them...try looking up building permits? If it had underground storage, that would’ve been recorded.”

 

That search yields a grand total of zero permits. “That’s definitely strange,” Lena mutters, thinking fast. “I know for a _fact_ that those existed. I visited one once, when Lex was — before he got arrested.”

 

“Would he have stored them somewhere else, maybe? A different server?” Winn suggests, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I mean, they weren’t doing legal stuff, right? He probably hid it.”

 

“Oh, wait,” Lena exclaims, “you’re right. He never digitized those records, they’re not in the system. He didn’t want anybody stumbling across them and looking too closely. They’re…” She closes her eyes, frowning. “I think the files are in storage.”

 

“In storage?” Winn’s bewildered. “Like, _paper_ files?”

 

Lena chuckles wryly. “Yes. Real paper files.”

 

— — —

 

They’re in Winn’s old hand-me-down sedan on the way to the L Corp storage facilities, and Kara’s starting to realize that she might regret letting Lena talk to Moles. She hasn’t heard Lena’s voice so cold and imperious since...since she’d betrayed her mother. And it’d been unnerving, how easily Moles had picked out her weakness and latched onto it with a dogged determination to break her. Lena’s quiet now, staring out the window as Winn fiddles with the radio. Kara wants to ask if she’s okay, but….

 

“You’re thinking too hard,” Lena murmurs, jarring Kara out of indecision.

 

Kara makes a face. “I...I don’t know if you talking to Moles was a good idea.”

 

Lena’s sigh is fond. She reaches over, grabs Kara’s hand, thumb rubbing across her knuckles. “I’m fine now,” she repeats. “Really.”

 

“ _Now?_ ” Kara asks. “You weren’t before?”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lena says, exasperated but smiling. “It’s okay, Kara. I’ll tell you if it’s not. Promise.”

 

“All right.” Kara doesn’t want to push — not when Lena really _does_ look okay — but the worry remains. Lillian Luthor doesn’t play a simple game. They know that all too well.

 

“We’re here,” Winn announces. In quieter voice, he adds, “Holy shit.”

 

The warehouse is a full block long and stands at two stories, effectively destroying the image of a little storage unit that Kara had imagined earlier. “This is _all_ filled with files?” she asks, helping Lena out of the car.

 

“No, not all of it, thankfully.” Lena leads them to a door where she presses her thumb to a fingerprint reader. The lock slides open. “Just the second floor is records.”

 

“Oh, so _half_ of it is files,” Winn says, weakly. “Great.”

 

The inside of the warehouse is impersonal; everything is steel and linoleum and various shades of gray, interspersed with bright caution yellow that screams at them to WATCH YOUR STEP and DO NOT BRING FLAMMABLE ITEMS INTO THIS AREA.

 

“Are there...are there _explosives_ in here?” Winn asks timidly, pointing at the sign as they pass it. Lena pauses, squints.

 

“I’m..not sure.” She flashes them a bright, not-at-all reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. If it were dangerous, I’d know about it.”

 

They head upstairs, where they’re met with the sight of row upon row upon row of shelves. “Holy shit,” Winn says again, although it’s more despairing than awed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many files in one place.”

 

Lena gives him a funny smile. “The L Corp servers easily have more than twice this.”

 

Winn makes a sound of distress, yanking his phone out and kissing it. “Thank _god_ for technology.”

 

They gaze over the endless lines of shelves. It’s like a travesty of a cornfield — instead of rows upon rows of golden green, there’s nothing but gunmetal gray and drab tan file boxes. “Okay, so where do we start?”

 

Lena’s checking a diagram on the wall. “The files for subsidiaries are over here.” She taps a section on the map that covers several rows. “I think it’s split into types of subsidiaries, too.”

 

They descend into the rows. An eerie sort of silence follows them. “I feel like we shouldn’t be here,” Kara mutters, as they check the labels on the sides of the shelves and move on. “It’s too quiet.”

 

“We had a security guard, last year,” Lena murmurs, voice automatically dropping lower. Talking too loud feels dangerous in the still, cold air. “Had to fire him for having parties in the warehouse.”

 

“Parties?” Winn mutters, glancing at each shelf as they pass. “This place feels more like a funeral home.”

 

“Here we go.” The labels on the sides of the shelves have SUBSID. on them. Underneath, in smaller print, is DIST. “These are the distributors…” They continue on.

  
Kara catches sight of it, a few rows down. “Found it!”

 

SUBSID. LABS. is written on the shelf label. “It’s all of these?” Winn asks, sounding aghast. “This entire row?”

 

“Both of these rows, actually,” Lena calls out, venturing into the next. “At least it’s only two.”

 

“ ‘Only _two’,_ she says.” Winn shakes his head. “That’s gotta be like, a hundred boxes!”

 

Lena purses her lips, gazing at the neat row of boxes. The lighting is terrible, Kara thinks — all harsh and synthetic, very disinfected — but Lena still manages to look distractingly pretty in it. Somehow it sharpens the cut of her cheekbones, makes her seem ethereal. “It’s not all of them,” Lena mutters, thinking. “We could cut it down by just looking at the building permits and layouts for each of them.” She examines the labels on the boxes. “Kara, could you look in this box, tell me what the forms are inside?”

 

Kara pulls her gaze away from Lena’s _distracting_ face and refocuses it on the box, tipping her glasses down. “Um...contractor permits, shipping records...chemical MSDS’s..aha! Building layout and building permit.” She turns back around, a spot of black catching her eye. “Wait a minute.” There are a few boxes that she can’t see into. “Why are these lead-shielded?” She runs her fingers over them. There aren’t any suspicious labels, only a thin sheet of lead that prevents her from looking inside.

 

“Which other ones can you not look into?” Lena asks, sliding the box off the shelf. “Just this one?”

 

“No, this one, too…” Kara starts to pull the boxes. “That’s suspicious, right?”

 

“Definitely.” Lena’s already flipping through the first box, fingers moving quick across the papers. “I can’t tell if this is a legitimate lab or one of Lex’s, but the fact that it’s shielded is a pretty good indicator. We should start with the shielded boxes.”

 

Kara finds a dolly, for keeping the pretense of being a normal human being with a normal amount of strength, and stacks all the boxes onto it. Only ten of them are shielded — no small amount, but a significant decrease from a hundred. “Well, at least there are only a few,” Winn mutters, looking at the stack of boxes. “What about the rest?”

 

“I can ask Alex to send over some agents. They’ll have enough manpower to look through the rest of them, make sure that anything shady is shut down.” Kara contemplates the boxes. They’re going to have to look through all of them, every single form, just to make sure that they haven’t missed anything. It sounds like a horrendously boring task. If they’re going to pore over forms and permits, they might as well have fun…

 

“I have an idea,” Kara declares. “Let’s have a party!”

 

Lena looks at her, bemused. “A party?”

 

“A file-searching party. We can all go to my apartment, get some food, listen to some music, go through these boxes.” She beams. “It’s going to be boring, right? Might as well make some parts enjoyable.”

 

Winn lights up. “As long as you get pineapple pizza!”

 

Kara pulls a face. “Nope, you’re uninvited.”

 

“It’s okay, Winn, you can share one with me.” Lena narrows her eyes at Kara, smirking. “I know what a good pizza is, unlike her.”

 

“Yesss!” He fist pumps. “Kara, I like her.”

 

“Oh, great.” Kara rolls her eyes, barely able to keep from smiling. Lena’s grin makes her want to float. She pushes the dolly instead. “That makes one of us.”

 

“Well, that’s rude,” Lena says, tossing a faux frown in Kara’s direction. “And here I am, sending you all those flowers.”

 

Kara remembers them and grins. She’s currently got a vase full of white tulips and roses in her apartment. “Thank you for those, by the way,” she says. “Everybody in the office thinks I have a secret admirer.”

 

Lena nudges her, expression fond. “I certainly do admire you.” A wink. Kara almost runs the dolly into a shelf. “But that’s no secret.”

 

Kara can hear Winn snickering. Her cheeks burn. “Shut up, Winn.”

 

— — —

 

“Have you told her yet?”

 

Lena looks up from pouring another cup of water. “Sorry?”

 

J’onn has calm eyes, warm eyes. They make her feel accepted, even though he hasn’t said much beyond a greeting since he walked in. She wants to trust him. “Have you told her you love her?”

 

Well, that’s one way to do it. Lena blinks, glances over at Kara, who’s currently in the midst of trying to decipher some handwriting on a particular form with Alex. “I haven’t.” She gives J’onn an inquisitive look. “How did you know?”

 

A knowing smile. He swirls the soda in his cup. “I can read minds,” he says, like this is an everyday occurrence, “but I didn’t have to with you. I can feel it without even trying.” Another smile, one that crinkles the corner of his eyes and settles Lena’s nerves. “Are you going to?” The way he asks it doesn’t give Lena anxiety like it does with other people. The question isn’t pushy, isn’t ‘why haven’t you done it yet?’. It’s genuine.

 

“I….” She gazes at Kara. At the wild spread of papers and forms across the horizontal surfaces of her apartment, at the warm orange light that softens the edges of things and makes her feel at home. She looks at Alex, dressed in something far more civilian than Lena’s ever seen before, at Winn and James, who are making a competition out of their file-searching, laughing and coming dangerously close to spilling their drinks. At Maggie, who somehow got dragged along and is studiously poring through a box, leg touching Alex’s. At Mon-el, whose real name Lena now knows, sullenly going through his own box, glancing up at Kara ever so often. “I will,” is what she decides on, after a moment. “When the time is right.”

 

J’onn accepts this with a nod.

 

Lena sets her drink on the counter, pauses. “Do you know what happened? Between us?”

 

There’s no judgement in his eyes. No reservations. She relaxes a little. “I do.”

 

“Whose fault do you think it is?” He raises an eyebrow. Lena frowns. “That...didn’t come out right. What I mean, is….Kara thinks it’s all her fault because she started it by not telling me the truth. But I lied, too, so I think it’s my fault, too.” She shrugs, unsure. “It still doesn’t feel right.”  


“You’re looking for blame,” J’onn observes. “Blame is just a way of making yourself feel better. You both did something wrong, right?”  


“Yes.”

 

“Then it’s settled. No more “my fault, your fault”. You both did wrong. You both were forgiven. Now you can move on. Start again.”

 

Lena gazes over the rim of her cup. When Kara’s focused, she does an adorable little face-scrunch thing and Lena really just wants to go over there and kiss her. “Do you think it’ll work?”

 

J’onn contemplates this. “You two? It will if you try.” He meets her eyes. “Some of the easiest things aren’t accomplished because nobody tries.”

 

Lena worries her paper cup, unfolding the rim of it. “But...am I right for her? She’s so…. _good_ , and I...I’m Lena _Luthor._ ”

 

His eyes go misty with memory. “What we are doesn’t have to affect who we become,” he murmurs. Lena senses weight behind those words, more so than before. “You can choose your own fate. It doesn’t have to be tied to your last name, and Kara knows this. She knows that’s what you’re trying to do.”

 

It still doesn’t feel like enough. “I’m not as good as she is, though, with relationship things. She always tries so hard to make me comfortable, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be her friend, much less — _more_ than a friend.” Lena grips her cup. “She deserves better than what I can give her.” The feeling of not-enough is back with a vengeance. _How irritating_ , she thinks distantly. _I thought I was over this._

 

“It’s not about what she deserves, Lena.” J’onn observes her with a sad smile. “It’s about whether you’re going to try. She thinks you’re exactly what she wants. Who are you to say you’re not?” His words echo Alex’s eerily. Lena thinks that maybe she should start taking them into account.

 

“Because she doesn’t really know me,” Lena mutters, unsure of why she’s arguing the point. “She doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”

 

J’onn hums. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Do _you_ know what you’re getting into?”

 

Lena remembers meeting Kara for the first time — timid smile, pinked cheeks, wordless— and compares it to the confident, seductive woman she’s slept with. She has to admit that she doesn’t have any idea of what she’s getting into. “I suppose not.”

 

“Just let things happen,” he encourages. “Do your best. Give it your all.” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. “You’d be surprised how much of a difference that makes.”

 

— — —

 

“Have you told her yet?” Maggie asks, nudging Alex in the side.

 

“Told who what?”

 

Maggie glances up towards the kitchen. Kara and Lena are standing by the counter, laughing in a quiet, intimate way, bodies angled towards each other and eyes bright. Lena says something and Kara giggles, cheeks flushing. “Kara. She’s head-over-heels for Luthor.”

 

Alex looks up from the paper she’s perusing. It’s not surprise that’s on her face, but a sort of triumphant resignation. “Oh. You think so, too? I wasn’t sure.”

 

“Oh, definitely.” Maggie gestures at them with a sweeping motion. “I’ve seen girls with crushes, but this...did you see her earlier? It’s like she can’t look away. She looks at Lena at _least_ once a minute. And the whole body contact thing?” Kara touches Lena on the shoulder, quick but present. Lena gives her a quick smile. “Yeah, that’s gay.”

 

Alex snorts. “I think that’s already established.” She glances up again. “ _Should_ I tell her? I mean…” She formulates her thoughts into words. “Does she not know?”

 

Maggie gives her a look. “You didn’t know you liked girls, Danvers. I think it’s safe to say cluelessness runs in the family.”  


Alex doesn’t bother pointing out the lack of blood relation; Maggie’s not wrong. While Kara may be oblivious to most romantic come-ons, it’s not like Alex herself is a master of recognizing her own feelings. “Shouldn’t we let it happen by itself, though? Naturally?”

 

As they watch, Lena and Kara return to their boxes of files. Kara mutters something, probably about the outrageous amount of files left to go through, and Lena smiles. That smile...it _aches._ It’s soaked in affection but echoes with a strange sort of longing that comes from knowing something the other person doesn’t. Just seeing it gives Alex’s chest a little twinge in sympathy.

 

“Well, Luthor certainly has it bad,” Maggie mutters.

 

“ _Lena_ does, yeah.” Maggie glances over at the emphasis, but doesn’t say anything. Alex watches them for another moment, then looks away, not wanting to get caught.

 

“Would it hurt anybody if you did tell her?” Maggie wonders. “Because from what I can tell, Lena’s just as head-over-heels as Kara is.”

 

Alex chews on this. _Would_ it hurt anybody? It’s just a truth, after all. And god knows what it might take for Kara to finally realize her feelings. Those two have been through a lot already. She looks up in time to catch the end of a terribly awkward exchange between Kara and Mon-el. Lena’s studiously flipping through papers, quietly ignoring him. He walks away, expression twisting as he tries to keep disgruntlement from showing.

 

“Yikes,” Maggie remarks. “Men.”

 

Alex is inclined to agree. Mon-el has been on her list since he’d kissed Kara without her consent. The offended, self-righteous way he’s been acting recently hasn’t helped matters.

 

“Does he know?” Maggie asks. “About those two making little Luthor-Danvers babies?”

 

Alex chokes on her drink. “Oh, _gross_ , Maggie,” she complains, grimacing. “Thanks a lot for that mental image.”

 

She grins. “Just sayin’.”

 

Alex focuses her eyes on the building permit in front of her, hoping the endless words and filled-in blanks will erase that from her memory. “I don’t think he knows,” she says. “It’s not like they’ve announced it to the DEO or anything.”

 

Maggie hums. “Maybe all aliens are just really oblivious, then.”

 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “I’m not an alien.”

 

A smirk sneaks across Maggie’s face. “You may not be,” she drawls, “but your ass is definitely out of this world.”

 

Alex groans. “ _Jesus,_ Maggie, that was terrible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moles, molis (Latin)
> 
> 3rd declension feminine
> 
> heap/lump/pile  
> monster  
> rock/boulder
> 
> let me know what you thought!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this took longer than I intended.  
> disclaimer for this chapter: I have no idea how you would go about making Kryptonite. I got a B in Chem, don't ask me

Lena wonders if this is what dating Kara Danvers is like.

 

The apartment is quiet, no longer full of people: Alex and Maggie off to investigate a potential location, James and Winn off to sleep like normal people, J’onn off to deal with something at the DEO. Kara and Lena are the only people left — and Kara’s asleep, head pillowed in Lena’s lap, glasses discarded on the coffee table. Is this what it’s like? To just... _be_ with her, no external motivations, no interviews or press conferences? They just...exist together?

  
Lena hopes so. It’s still disconcerting to glance down and see Supergirl in unicorn-decorated pajamas. She strokes Kara’s hair, scanning through the papers in front of her. She’s on one of the last boxes — a chemical manufacturing company called Evolution Sciences — and her goal is to get through it before she succumbs to sleep.

 

So far, it looks promising: underground space, check; non-standard building design for “large shipments”, check. There isn’t much else to incriminate it, though, and niggling doubt is beginning to resurface. What if her mother foresaw this happening? What if she’s long gone and they’re wasting their time flipping through old files when they should be keeping their eye on other things?

 

Lena rubs her eyes and glances back down at Kara to ground herself. _This is the best lead we have,_ she reminds herself. They’re on the right track. If nothing pans out….they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

 

She finds the address on the building permit and reaches over to her laptop to type it in. Hmmm. That’s a good sign; it’s located within walking distance of the prison where Moles was held. Lena leaves the building permit papers on Kara’s stomach and grabs the rest of the papers for the company. If they’re making Kryptonite there, they’ll need lots of nonstandard equipment. If there’s anything suspicious at all, Lena’s going to find it. Lillian won’t know what hit her.

 

Inventory, equipment list….where would that be? Lena shuffles through the papers. “Ow,” she mutters, when the edge of a sheet of paper slices across the pad of her index finger. “Shit.” She scowls at the tiny red papercut and sticks her finger in her mouth, flipping through the files. “Where the fuck are you,” she mumbles around the finger in her mouth. “Inventory, inventory…”

 

 _Aha! “_ Gotcha.” She spots the heading and pulls the sheet of paper out, scanning down the list. It’s regular lab equipment: _pipettes, microscopes, mass spectrometer, weights, refrigerators….linear accelerator?_  That’s not standard equipment. Not unless...they’re dealing with radiation. “Duh,” Lena breathes, feeling stupid. “Radiation.” Kryptonite’s got signature radiation that can be detected by certain types of instruments. If they’re really making Kryptonite there, they’ll have shielding, radioactive-safe equipment, the whole thing.

 

She snatches the papers off Kara’s stomach. The words jump out at her: _lead-reinforced walls._ Her heart quickens. _This might be it._

 

Lena shuffles back to the order form so helpfully provided. _Sulfur, argon, nitrate/nitrite based compounds..._ nothing there that needs this level of radiation protection. What else? What else would they need…..

 

Moles. They had to subdue Moles somehow. Alex had told her about it earlier, something about how his species doesn’t go down easily. Lena snags her laptop from the table and rests it on the arm of the couch, pulling up the alien database on Wikipedia. Moles’s species is some unintelligible scrawl of letters, ‘stone-like alien’ in parentheses after it. Lena clicks on it.

 

_….they are susceptible to acid rain-like conditions. Extreme temperatures tend to slow them down, and sulfurous fumes are often used in conflicts to render them unconscious._

 

The pieces are coming together. Evolution Sciences has the capabilities for all of that — Lena glances at the inventory list — _and_ both an industrial fridge and furnace. Both of which could have been used to subdue Moles.

  
“I found it!” she whispers, quietly, to herself. “I found it!”

 

She supposes she’s going to have to get used to Kara’s super senses, too.

 

Kara jerks up and narrowly misses clocking Lena in the chin, papers flying. “Wha’? Wha’s happening?”

 

Lena tries to calm her racing heart. “ _J_ _esus,_ Kara. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up —”

 

“No, no, it’s fine, I was just — taking a nap.” Kara waves it off, yawning. “You said you found it?” She shuffles into a sitting position, leaning against Lena’s side to peer at the papers. Her body is warm and solid and _close_ , and Lena stammers for a second.

  
“Yeah, I, um, it’s got everything. The underground space, nonstandard building design, and they have all the equipment they need to make Kryptonite.” Kara hums, chin resting on Lena’s shoulder. Lena swallows and continues. “They, they also have everything necessary to subdue an alien like Moles. And they’ve got precautions for radiation that don’t make sense, since they don’t produce anything officially that needs that level of safety.”

 

“Where is it?” Kara asks, reaching over to look through the inventory list. Lena yawns; Kara’s like a space heater, and the heat is making her sleepier.

 

“Within walking distance of the prison where Moles was held. I think it’s the place.”

 

Kara gives a small nod, yawning again. Lena watches, amused, as she uses the action as an excuse to put her arm around Lena’s shoulders. “Didja tell Alex?”

 

“Uh, not yet.” Lena wonders how her heart is staying in her chest. It feels like it’s threatening to jump right out of her ribcage, swelling with unmeasurable affection. “That was very smooth, by the way.”

 

Lena can imagine Kara’s blush without even looking. “Thank you,” Kara mumbles, adorable in her embarrassment. “Have you been awake this entire time?”

 

Lena hums, pulling her up conversation with Alex on her phone. “It hasn’t been that long. James and Winn left around midnight and you fell asleep right after that.”

 

Kara looks at the clock. It’s two in the morning. She presses a tiny kiss to the side of Lena’s neck. “You should to go sleep,” she murmurs. “Don’t you have early meetings tomorrow?”

 

“I’m, uh, I’ll do that after I text Alex.” It takes a few moments for her to gather her thoughts back into working condition and then another minute to figure out what she’s trying to type. Kara’s nuzzling at her neck and by _god,_ focusing has never been harder. Lena feels like her grasp on her mental functions is slipping through her fingers like sand and she’s trying to catch it with a sieve.

 

“Mmmkay.” Kara sighs, body going limp.

 

Lena sends the message, tossing her phone onto the table. “Now what?” She pauses. “You’re going to go with them, right?” she asks.

 

“Go where?” Kara mumbles, eyes closed.

 

“To the lab. If it turns out that it’s the place, you’ll be there, busting doors and kicking ass. Right?”

 

Kara’s chuckle is soft. “Yeah, probably. If they don’t detect any more Kryptonite, then I’m gonna be on the strike team.” Lena hums, forcing nonchalance into the sound. Still, Kara stills, eyes opening. “You don’t want me to go,” she observes.

 

“No, no, I was just wondering,” Lena says. “It makes sense for you to go.”

 

Kara lifts her head so she can look Lena in the eye. “You’re sure?”

 

Lena shrugs, looks away. “Yes, of course.”

 

“Lena.” That tone of voice again. Kara shifts on the couch so she’s facing Lena. “Talk to me.”

 

Lena expels a heavy breath. “It’s just...I don’t want to lose you again.” Her hands flutter uselessly in her lap. “But it makes sense for you to go. And I know you want to.”

 

“But _you_ don’t want me to.” Kara reaches out, tangles their fingers together, squeezing Lena’s hand. Lena squeezes back. “Lena, I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

 

“No.” Even Lena’s taken aback by the vehemence in her own voice. “You need to go. I trust Alex and whoever else will be on the strike team. It’ll be different this time.” She’s not quite sure who she’s trying to convince here. “And I know you can take care of yourself.” She lets her other reason go unspoken — that she’s afraid that if Supergirl doesn’t go, her mother will get away. She’s not sure which scares her more: the possibility of losing Kara or the possibility of her mother free to threaten both of them. “You’re going, Kara,” she repeats, because Kara still looks unsure.

 

“Okay,” she acquiesces, after a moment. She rubs her thumb across Lena’s knuckles. Her voice softens, concern clouding her blue eyes. “Want to talk about earlier?”

 

It takes Lena a moment to recall what she’s referring to — Moles. The interrogation. “There isn’t much to talk about,” she says.

 

Kara raises an eyebrow. For a moment, Lena resists the urge to give in — then she meets Kara’s eyes, and she’s gone.

 

“He was right about me being like my mother.” The confession flows from her like a undammed river. “I manipulated him. Threatened him with — I basically threatened to torture him for the rest of his _life_ if he didn’t help us. How is that —” Lena’s voice breaks. She looks away, gathers herself and forces her voice steady. “I don’t see how I’m different from her at all.”

 

Kara squeezes her hands. “Lena, look at me.” It’s a Herculean effort, but she does it. It’s hard for her to see the pure concern in Kara’s eyes when she feels so undeserving of it. “Listen. Your mother raised you. She taught you how the world worked.”

 

“And how to use other people to my own advantage,” Lena mutters.

 

“There are parts of her that are in you. You can’t get rid of that no matter how hard you try.” Sorrow etches fine creases between Kara’s brows. “But these parts of her — these skills — you can use them in different ways. And that’s what you’re doing! You’re using what she gave you for a better purpose.”

 

Lena looks down. “I don’t see how threatening to torture somebody is a better purpose.”

 

“Lena…” Kara exhales, and her words are heavy with history. “Some things have to be done for the greater good.”

 

“But where does that end?” Lena doesn’t really want to pursue that line of questioning, but the words escape her mouth anyways. She doesn’t want to know if Kara has an answer to that. “Where do you draw the line for the greater good?”

 

A thick silence falls. Outside, a police siren wails. “I don’t know,” Kara finally murmurs. “That’s something you have to decide.” She reaches out, palm cupping Lena’s cheek. Lena leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. “I know that you’ll make the right decision, if it comes to that. And…” Lena leans closer, breathing slow. “The fact that you even asked that question makes you different from your mother.” Lena opens her eyes. They’re close, closer than before. Somehow the space between them has fallen away again. “You are not your mother, Lena. You’re so much more than she is.” Kara glances down, quick and furtive, at Lena’s mouth. An ache flickers to life between her ribs. Lena leans in further. Kara tilts closer, closing the space…

 

..and presses a kiss to Lena’s forehead. “We should go to sleep,” she murmurs.

 

Lena exhales shakily, and leans away. “Yeah.”

 

— — —

 

Kara wakes up on the couch with Lena in her arms, brown hair hair in her mouth, and wonders if this is what it’s like to be dating somebody — just waking up one day, and realizing every aspect of your life is tangled up in theirs. It’s something she could get used to — waking up with sunbeams creeping into her apartment, soft hazy light illuminating Lena’s sleeping features.

 

Something about the moment is different, and it takes Kara a moment to place the feeling: it’s calm. Peaceful. They haven’t had a quiet moment since...since they first kissed. Lena stirs slightly, eyebrows scrunching. Kara reaches out instinctively to brush hair from her face. Lying like this, close up in somebody else’s space — she stops that thought. No, it’s not even just the closeness. It’s the fact that it’s _Lena._ Lena Luthor, who keeps people at an arm’s distance, even when she needs them. Maybe even more, when she needs them. It’s Lena, in her arms, snuggling closer, opening herself up willingly. Kara’s ribcage hurts with the strange golden feeling in her chest, something that threatens to spill from her mouth if she doesn’t keep a tight enough hold on it.

 

A loud marimba interrupts Kara’s train of thought. It’s Lena’s alarm that’s ringing; Kara reaches over Lena’s sleeping form to turn it off.

 

Lena chooses that exact moment to wake up, jabbing Kara in the side with a sharp elbow and stretching out like a cat.

 

“Hey —” Kara exclaims, tumbling off the couch with a thud. The blankets go with her and Lena makes a sound of complaint. The fall jolts Kara’s arm and she realizes it’s completely asleep, static fuzzing through the limb. She grimaces. “Ow, Lena, I can’t feel my arm.”

 

Having not noticed Kara’s abrupt departure from the couch, Lena runs her fingers through her hair, yawning. She winces as she tries to move her leg. “Tell me about it. I think my leg’s been amputated.”

 

Kara makes a few unintelligible noises from the floor and speaks without thinking. “Next time, we’re using the bed.” Lena goes quiet. “Sleeping, of course,” Kara corrects, loudly. She struggles to her feet and squints at the clock. “You’ve got a meeting at seven in the morning?”

 

Lena topples back onto the couch, throwing her arm over her face. Her borrowed National City University t-shirt rides up and Kara directs her gaze elsewhere. “Unfortunately,” she mutters, voice muffled. “Conference call with potential investors overseas. This was the only time that could work.”

 

Kara hums in sympathy, gathering the blankets off the floor. “I can make us breakfast. What do you want?”

 

Lena shrugs. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

 

Kara beams. “Pancakes it is.” It feels disjointedly domestic, to be making breakfast for them both. Surreal. Because wasn’t it just a week ago that they were sleeping together? She grabs the milk from the fridge and the container of flour, thinking. Yeah, exactly a week ago, they had had sex in Lena’s gym. She exhales, a little puff of air, as she considers everything that’s changed. They know each others’ secrets now. They’ve talked about — well, not exactly.

 

Kara taps the egg with her finger and cracks it open into the bowl. They haven’t _really_ talked about their feelings. Or what they are. If they’re dating, or if they’re just friends, or...what. She tosses the eggshells into the little compost bin on the counter. Maybe they should have a talk about that.

 

Lena emerges from the bathroom, looking refreshed and awake. Kara envies her. “Need any help?”

 

“Um, if you could grab plates? From the cabinet, over there.” A few seconds of super-fast whisking and the batter is ready. Kara doesn’t wait for the stove to finish heating; a quick blast of laser vision and the pan is the perfect temperature.

 

“Do you do that often?” Lena asks. Kara turns; she’s sitting at the counter, looking awed. “Use your powers for everyday things?”

 

Kara hides her blush by turning away to pour batter onto the pan. “Um, not usually. But it’s faster this way.” She flips a pancake onto the plate. “And it takes a lot of practice to get it right. You won’t believe how many pans I’ve accidentally melted before. Mom made me practice outside on old ones before letting me use them over the stove.”

 

Pretty soon, there are two stacks of pancakes and Kara’s pulling the syrup out of the pantry. Lena takes a bite, eyes widening. “Wow,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand, “these are _really_ good.”

 

Kara beams. “Thanks! They’re one of the few things I can actually make without setting things on fire.”

 

Lena takes another bite, a little moan of delight escaping her mouth. Feeling her face heat up, Kara looks down and stuffs another bite of pancake into her mouth. How is it that everything Lena does is so…. _sexual?_ Like eating pancakes! Kara eats pancakes like a trucker who hasn’t seen food in a week, according to Alex. That’s not sexy. Lena eats and makes these infuriating sounds that do nothing but remind Kara of exactly one week ago when she was making a lot of those sounds under Kara’s mouth.

 

“I see you got the compost bin,” Lena observes, pointing to the container with her fork.

 

Kara clears her throat. “Oh, yeah, I did. It’s pretty helpful.” Lena had suggested it to her, after hearing about her effort to help build a community garden down by the park. “Although I don’t tend to have many leftovers.”

 

Lena hums, pouring another spoonful of syrup onto her pancakes. “Speaking of, I’m curious. How many calories do you consume per day? What is it about your metabolism that makes it so efficient?” Ah, there it is, Lena’s insatiable scientific curiosity.

 

Kara chuckles, a little embarrassed at the information. “About four thousand, for a regular day at work. A lot more if Supergirl has to fight an alien.” She thinks for a moment. “I’m not quite sure about the whole metabolism thing. Alex thinks it’s a combination of the powers and how I need more energy to properly synthesize yellow sunlight.”

 

Lena takes this in. Her eyebrow quirks up. “You, uh, refer to yourself as Supergirl?”

 

Kara opens her mouth and finds no words coming. “I — well — it’s a habit, because y’know, other people aren’t supposed to know. It’s just safer that way.”

 

Lena dips her pancake into a pool of syrup on her plate. “So how many people know? It’s kind of baffling, honestly, how a pair of glasses can keep everybody fooled.”

 

Kara makes a face. “Hey! It works well for my cousin. Nobody ever suspects he’s Superman.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “He once dressed up at Superman for a Halloween office party. Somebody told him he had done his hair the wrong way.”

 

Lena laughs, eyes twinkling. “But Clark Kent is...he’s quiet. He’s mild-mannered.”

 

“Hey, what are you saying about me?” Kara asks, faux offended.

 

Lena chuckles, gaze adoring. “You’re more outspoken about your views. I mean, I doubt your cousin ever speaks back to Perry.” She levels a knowing look at Kara. “Meanwhile, you and Snapper get into spats, what, on a daily basis?”

 

“Hey, okay, it is not a _daily_ basis,” Kara protests. “He’s just unfair! It’s not my fault that he picks on every spelling mistake I make.”

 

Lena nods. “Mmhmm. But you can’t tell me that you keep a low profile.” She reaches over and taps Kara on the forehead. Kara blinks. “Plus, you’ve got that scar by your eyebrow. You should really conceal that when you’re Supergirl.”

 

Kara huffs. “Okay, Nancy Drew. It that how you knew I was Supergirl the moment I walked in?”

 

Lena stabs another piece of pancake. “That, and I never forget a pretty girl’s face. Supergirl was all over the TV a couple of days earlier.” A teasing wink. Kara almost chokes on her bite of pancake. “Yours is a hard face to forget.” Kara feels her cheeks heat up and Lena laughs, syrup dripping off her fork onto her wrist. She sighs, setting the fork down. “Oh, damn.”

 

Kara watches, unable to look away, as Lena brings her wrist to her mouth. Her tongue darts out and licks the drizzle of sugar off her skin. Lena looks up, catches her gaze with hooded eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to have a napkin, would you?”

 

“I, uh, yes, yeah.” Kara snatches a napkin from the holder by her side. _Why hadn’t Lena asked for one earlier?_ she wonders, half-dazed. It’s far too early for this sexy-food-eating... _thing_. And they haven’t even talked about what they are! She gathers a breath, tears her gaze away from Lena’s mouth. “Hey, can we —”

 

Lena’s phone goes off again. “Shit,” Lena mutters, reaching over to grab it, scanning the screen. She sighs. “Could you take me to my apartment?” She makes a face. Kara kind of wants to kiss her, also kind of wants to scream because they _really_ should talk. “I’ve got ten minutes before they start the conference.”

 

Kara tamps down the disappointment, replacing it with a smile. “No problem.” A brisk breeze whips through the apartment, and then Supergirl’s there, hands on hips. “Ready?”

 

Lena swallows the last bite of pancake. “Yeah.” She looks down at her clothes, at Kara’s college shirt and the soft cotton shorts. “I can, uh, give these back to you —”

 

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Kara says, words rushing out of her mouth. “It’s fine. I like it when you wear my clothes.” Lena glances up, amusement and shy fondness on her face, and Kara blushes, mumbling, “Sorry. That was supposed to stay in my head.”

 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Lena smiles, small and shy. “I like wearing your clothes.”

 

Kara’s smile curves across her lips, uncontrollably wide, and she ducks her head, chest feeling fit to burst with warmth. There’s an alluring quality to Lena’s smile, usually, but this one is different. Not more genuine, because Lena’s always genuine when it comes to Kara — but another kind of genuine. A vulnerability lies in this smile, a shard of those true feelings that Lena almost never shows to the real world.

 

Lena holds her arms out and Kara remembers what they’re supposed to be doing. “Hold on.”

 

“I wasn’t planning on —” Kara lifts her up with barely any effort and then they’re out in the soft summer morning air, slight chill from the height. “ — letting go,” Lena finishes, breathless. Cars idle beneath them, toys on little thin roads. Buildings melt into steel-gray blurs and Lena closes her eyes, arms wrapped around Kara’s neck.

 

“You okay?” Kara asks, when she’s deposited Lena gently on her balcony.

 

Lena nods, wrangling her windswept hair out of her face, one hand still resting on Kara’s bicep. “Yes, thank you. For the ride, and breakfast.” It feels like a goodbye and Kara hesitates, shuffling her feet.

 

“You sure you don’t need a lift to your office?”

 

“Oh, no, it’s fine. My chauffeur is downstairs.” Lena flashes her a quick grin, leans in. It’s her turn to kiss Kara on the cheek. Kara represses the urge to laugh at their awkward tango around the subject of kissing and grabs Lena’s hand, squeezing it.

 

“I’ll see you later, then?”

 

Lena beams, cheeks brushed red from the high air. “Definitely.”

 

— — —

 

She’s only a minute early for the conference and Jess almost explodes when she steps out of the elevator, still fixing her lipstick.

 

“Ms. Luthor,” Jess sighs, tension leaking from her shoulders, “you’re here.”

 

“Sorry, Jess.” Lena remembers standing on the balcony, watching Supergirl disappear between skyscrapers. “I had another matter to attend to.”

 

Jess frowns at her, shuffling around her office, moving everything within view of the webcam a few inches to the left, a few inches forward. “You’ve been talking about this meeting for months, Ms. Luthor.” _What’s more important than this?_ is left unsaid.

 

Lena hides a laugh behind a cough. “I spent the night at Kara’s,” she murmurs. The secret has been bubbling in her throat since she walked in and she can’t keep it back anymore, not with this irrepressible smile.

 

“Kara? Kara _Danvers?”_ Jess stops her tidying. “You...spent the _night?”_

 

Too late, Lena realizes the implied meaning of the phrase. “We were working on a project,” she hastens to explain. “She dropped me off at my apartment this morning, that’s why I was later than normal.”

 

Her laptop dings with the notification that the conference is starting. Jess gives her a look that means “we’re talking about this later” and closes the office door behind her.

 

Lena fixes a strand of her hair and turns to her computer. One by one, the screens connect. “Good morning,” she starts, once all four investors are present. “Shall we begin?”

 

— — —

 

Kara spends her morning half-writing, half-daydreaming about how her conversation with Lena will play out, once they get the time to talk. The best place to talk would be either her apartment or Lena’s, she decides. She imagines the scene: Lena standing on one side of the island in her kitchen, Kara on the other.

 

_“What do you want to talk about?” she’ll ask, curious and slightly apprehensive._

 

_Here, Kara will be mature and well-spoken: “I want to talk about where we are in our relationship. What we are.”_

 

_Lena will — what will she do? Smile, blush? Stammer and avoid the subject? No, she won’t do that. She’ll...she’ll say something like “Oh. I’m happy with whatever you are,” or something similarly cautious. Because she won’t want to force Kara into anything._

 

Kara sighs, pen tapping her desk. Even in her daydreams, Lena’s irritatingly considerate.

 

_No, Kara won’t put it like that then. She’ll just ask, blunt and straight to the point: “Are we dating?”_

 

 _And Lena will probably say, a little taken aback, “I’d love to.” Hopefully. That’s the good outcome. Or she might say something like “Um, if you want to.”_ Kara pauses. Would she say something like that?

 

God, this is impossible. Kara stares at the five sentences she’s written for her article and groans.

 

_No, she’ll have to be even blunter. Just ask, “Will you be my girlfriend?”_

 

 _And then if Lena says yes, everything is rainbows and sunshine. If she says “I thought we were already,” then they get a good laugh out of it. If she says no…._ well, she won’t. Kara’s pretty sure of that.

 

Her phone buzzes and she snatches up the distraction, relieved.

 

[Alex]: Update: recon teams have confirmed that Evol. Sciences is still functioning, and is transporting radioactive materials. No trace of Kryptonite.

[Alex]: Winn found a connection between Lillian’s funds and the lab, are you okay with moving in tonight?

 

 _Tonight._ Wow, that’s soon. Kara worries her bottom lip with her teeth, thinking. They need to move fast, especially because they’re dealing with Lillian Luthor here. If they don’t catch her now, they might never have such a good chance to do so again.

 

[Kara]: Works for me!

[Alex]: Good

[Alex]: Also, ask Lena if she wants to come to the DEO, during

[Alex}: She can oversee the mission with Winn

 

A grin spreads across Kara’s face.

 

[Kara]: Whoa, are you being nice to Lena?

[Alex]: It’s her mother; she should be there

 

Which makes sense, of course, but Alex doesn’t go out of her way to invite people to things. Not that she gets many opportunities to invite people to top secret infiltration missions, but whatever. Kara giggles to herself.

 

[Kara]: Are you still mad at her?

[Alex]: Are you?

[Kara]: Stop answering my questions with questions!!

[Alex]: I wasn’t ever angry with her, not sure what you’re talking about

[Kara]: Yeah, right

[Alex]: Ok I was, a little

[Alex]: You like her a lot, anyways, I don’t see a reason to be angry with her anymore if you’ve forgiven her

 

Kara beams and sends Alex a heart emoji. Alex sends her a black heart back.

 

She opens up her conversation with Lena.

 

[Kara]: Hey, Alex went and checked out that lab and they think it's legit so we're going to head in tonight

[Kara]: She also wants to know if you'd be ok coming down to the DEO during the mission, so you can watch

[Lena]: That would be great. What time?

[Kara]:  They’re planning it around eleven

[Kara]:  Wanna get dinner before?

[Lena]: I’d love to :)

 

At one point, Kara considers selling her soul to the devil if he’d help her finish this dang article. It feels like the words are stuck to the inside of her brain and won’t come out unless she hits her head against something hard, like tungsten. James catches sight of her frustrated expression around noon and stands by her desk until she acknowledges him.

 

“Go take a break,” he orders. Kara makes a face, ready to argue, but he raises an eyebrow and she closes her mouth. “Go, Kara. Get a burger or something. We both know you’re the embodiment of a Snickers commercial.”

 

Kara won’t deny that. “Fine,” she grumbles. “What about you?”

 

“I have a Snickers bar in my desk,” he says, grinning. “Go on, get out of here before you destroy another keyboard.”

 

Kara ends up drifting by the community garden, after having eaten her lunch. The garden is a little patch of undeveloped land, hemmed in on both sides by red-brick apartments. There’s a small fence and a wrought iron gate that opens into the little haven. Trellises hang overhead, dappling the sunlight with spots of shade. Planters and plots of dirt are organized by family — everything from tomatoes to carrots and blueberry bushes — and at the center, a bunch of fruit trees.

 

To her surprise, Laurens is there, carrying his daughter on his shoulders and a pail of garden tools in his hand. “Supergirl!” the little girl exclaims, eyes lighting up when she pushes the gate open. “Papa, Supergirl came back!”

 

Kara grins, waving to Laurens. The little girl bounces on his shoulders, face shining with delight. Kara smiles at her. “Hi there! What’s your name?”

 

She beams. “I’m Yessenia! But you can call me Yessie!” She sticks her hand out.

 

Kara chuckles, shaking her small hand with deliberate firmness. “Yessie it is. Are you helping your dad out with the garden?”

 

Yessie makes a face. “Nah! He’s carrying me, so I can fly like you! Mama says he’s only here to do the heavy liftin’, because plants don’t like him.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “He kills _all_ the tomatoes.”

 

“Hey,” Laurens complains, attempting to hide his smile, “that was one time!”

 

“Nuh uh! You killed the beans, too! And Mama’s cactuseses!”

 

“It’s cacti, kiddo,” Laurens corrects. “Not cactuses.”

 

Yessie sticks her tongue out at him. “Cactuseses can be whatever they want! Papa, let me down, please? I want to sit on Supergirl’s shoulders!”

 

Laurens sighs, but sets her down on the ground, fond smile on his face. “You have to ask Supergirl nicely,” he tells her. “Remember your manners?”

 

Yessie nods emphatically, gazing up at Kara. “Mrs. Supergirl, can I pretty please sit on your shoulders?”

 

Kara laughs. “Of course, Yessie. And Ms. Supergirl will do just fine. I’m not married yet.” Yessie squeals in delight as Kara lifts her up, wrapping her little legs around Kara’s neck.

 

“Not married _yet_?” Laurens asks, with a smile. “What’s new?”

 

Kara stifles her grin. “Well, uh, I talked to them. There was a whole…” She waves her hands around. “..thing, with the alien on the news last week. But I think we’ve got it figured out.”

 

Laurens hums, setting his pail of garden tools down. “I’m glad to hear that.” Yessie exclaims when a pigeon flutters down on a nearby fence. Kara turns so she can see it better. “But you’ve got somethin’ else on your mind, haven’t you? I can tell.”

 

Kara chuckles a little. “Am I that easy to read?”

 

“You got that look in your eyes. Kinda dreamy, or whatever.” Laurens squints, suspicious. “Tell me about ‘em. What are they like?”

 

Kara doesn’t miss the pronoun change. She hopes that’s a good thing. “Well, they’re incredibly kind. She’s always considerate, and she” _— whoops._ Kara swallows, continues on like nothing’s happened — “she cares so much about things she doesn’t have to. She always tries to do things for good reasons, and she believes so strongly in doing what’s right, despite everybody else telling her the opposite.” Even Yessie’s listening now, little chin propped up on top of Kara’s head. “She’s, um, she’s pretty amazing,” Kara finishes, lamely.

 

Laurens’s smile is reassuring, warm like a loving grandparent. “You want my honest opinion, Supergirl?” He looks up at Yessie and shakes his head, grinning. “I think you’re in love.”

 

“Supergirl’s in love!” Yessie exclaims, then looks around wildly. “You’re in love?” she asks, leaning in close to Kara’s ear, voice a whisper.

 

“I…” Kara laughs, unsure. “I...guess?”

 

“Oh, there’s no ‘I guess’ about this situation,” Laurens says, with a knowing smile. “You do or you don’t. And I know what that smile means.” Kara blinks, tries to frown her smile away. “That’s how Amina smiled at me the day I realized she was the one I’d marry.”

 

“I — I, mean, I like her, like, a lot, but…” Kara remembers that golden feeling, like too many emotions bubbling up inside of her. “ _Love?_ Is it supposed to feel so…” She thinks about Lena laughing, about the little crinkles at the corners of her eyes, about the flecks of emerald in her eyes and how passionate she gets about polyatomic anions. “So _crazy?”_

 

“That’s exactly what love is,” Laurens laughs, “crazy. I’d be concerned if it _wasn’t_ crazy.”

 

Kara still doesn’t believe it. Love? This is the feeling that people write endless stories about? This is the feeling that drives people crazy? The feeling that can kill, the feeling that can be a reason for life?

 

She imagines the soft press of Lena’s lips to her cheek and believes it.

 

“I think I am,” she murmurs, letting Yessie press her small hand to Kara’s palm. “I am. I’m — I’m in _love._ ” She laughs, disbelieving at first, then genuinely, wildly happy. A burn of tears manifests behind her eyes and she blinks them away, smiling. “I love her.”

 

“Are you gonna get married, Ms. Supergirl?” Yessie asks, very serious. “May I come to the wedding? I’ve never been to one b’fore.”

 

“I don’t know,” Kara chuckles. She imagines Lena in a white dress and those happy tears threaten a resurgence. “We’ll have to see.” A thought occurs to her. “Wait, Laurens, I — what do I do now? Do I tell her? Or do I just…” Kara makes a noise of despair. “I don’t know how to do this!”

 

“Whoa, slow down,” he chuckles, hands up in a ‘stop’ gesture. “You’ll be fine. What you do now depends on what you want.” His eyes go misty with reminiscence. “When I realized I was in love with Amina, the first thing I did was to look up wedding venues. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” A soft laugh. He grins. “If you want her to know you love her, then do it. Tell her. Some people decide to wait until the right moment, because they want it to feel special. Other people may never say it because they don’t feel like it’s necessary. They feel like their actions speak for themselves.”

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “What do you want, Supergirl?”

 

Kara’s never really thought, not truly, about what she wants out of her relationship with Lena. “What do I want?” she mutters, pursing her lips.

 

What she wants...she wants to wake up to Lena every morning. She wants to make Lena pancakes and lick syrup off her. She wants to help her through the difficult times, wants her to be there for Kara’s difficult times. But mostly…

 

“I want her to be happy,” Kara decides.

 

Laurens doesn’t look surprised at her answer. “Will telling her you love her make her happy?”

 

A no-brainer. “Yes.”

 

“Then it’s simple.” He sweeps his arm out. “Nothing’s stopping you now.”

 

“Go!” Yessie exclaims, bouncing on Kara’s shoulders. “Are you gonna propose? Where’s your ring?”

 

“Not yet, Yessie,” Kara laughs. She imagines the weight of a ring on her left hand, imagines how the band would look around Lena’s finger. “Not yet.”

 

— — —

 

Jess finally corners her after lunch. “All right,” she declares, holding Lena’s afternoon coffee out of Lena’s reach. “Tell me about last night.”

 

“Or what?” Lena makes a halfhearted attempt at the coffee. Jess’s expression remains unamused. “Are you really blackmailing your boss with coffee?”

 

“Are you really avoiding a topic that _you_ brought up? You cannot simply just drop that fact and leave it. Tell me everything.” Jess narrows her eyes. “Will I need to threaten her?”

 

“You look far too happy about that,” Lena sighs. “I’ll tell you. Can I have my coffee?”

 

Jess hands it to her, expectant. “I’m not leaving until I get the information. Don’t go back on that promise.”

 

“It wasn’t a promise,” Lena mutters, but she’s smiling. “I...we were working on a project together. I can’t really tell you more, because it’s top secret” — Jess makes a face — “but it went pretty late. I stayed over because it made sense.”

 

“Is ‘top secret’ an euphemism for something I don’t know about?” Jess asks. “Because if it is, that’s really lame.”

 

Lena levels a cold look at her. “Do you want to hear it or not?”

 

“Oh, no.” Jess waves her hand, unfazed. “By all means, go on.”

 

“She took me back to my apartment in the morning. And she made us pancakes for breakfast.” Lena shrugs. “That’s it, really.”

 

“That’s it?” Jess shakes her head, incredulous. “Sorry, that’s not just it. You haven’t done _anything_ that’s not L Corp-related in three months, Lena, and then you stay over at Kara _Danvers’_ apartment? _And_ you’re almost late to a big meeting?”

 

“I was not late,” Lena corrects. “A minute early is still a minute.”

 

“You came in here smiling like you’d just won the lottery.” Jess frowns. “Bad example. Like — like you smile when Kara’s around. Which also is a terrible example, but it was a different. In a good way.”

 

Lena arches an eyebrow, sipping her coffee. “And your point?”

 

Jess relaxes, expression softening. “You like her a lot. Does she make you happy?” This feels a lot like... _concern_ , and Lena’s never used to that.

 

“Yes,” she decides, after a moment of deliberation. The words are heavy with certainty. “More than I’ve been in a long time.”

 

Jess nods, like this is the right answer. “Good.” She uncrosses her arms. “Enjoy your coffee, Ms. Luthor.”

 

Lena stops her by the door. “Oh, and Jess?” She turns around. “Please don’t threaten her.”

 

Jess hides a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Dinner is a quaint, strange affair set on the rooftop of the DEO building. The wind here is powerful, frisky, like a lion playing with a ball of yarn. Streaks of pastel orange and jarring magenta are smoothed across the sunset sky, a dark summer blue threatening to swallow the sun whole. It’s a beautiful sunset, but Lena forgets it as soon as she sees what surprise Kara’s set up for them — a picnic blanket with wine and takeout from her favorite restaurant, pillows and candles to complete the scene.

 

“Kara,” she breathes, “you did all this?”

 

“It’s not much,” Kara says, bashful. “Do you like it?”

 

“I love it.” Lena gives her a quick peck on the cheek before kicking off her heels. They both settle onto the blanket, which is surprisingly soft. “Any reason in particular for all of this?”

 

Lena’s known Kara long enough, stared at her face long enough, to know all the nuances of her expressions. It’s evasion, written on the hesitancy of her answer. “No,” she says, reaching for the takeout boxes. “I just wanted to have dinner with you.”

 

It’s something delicate, by the way she avoids the topic. Lena doesn’t push. After all they’ve been through, they both know the importance of communication; Kara will tell her on her own time if it’s something important.

 

They talk small things — Kara’s recent article, Lena’s conference, a new show called The Bold Type that they both love — until the sun goes down. The transition to city nighttime happens in a blink. One moment, streams of amber sunlight are still gilding the edges of the buildings, and in the next, streetlights are dotting the streets with their orange light.

 

Kara pauses in the middle of their conversation about NASA’s new telescope. “I lied, earlier,” she begins. “About not having a reason for this.” She’s looking away, across the city.

 

Lena’s mind automatically flips through all the worse-case scenarios before she reins it in. Kara wouldn’t set up a nice dinner just to tell her bad news. She wouldn’t. “What is it?” she nudges, when Kara doesn’t continue.

 

Kara takes a breath, gives her a shaky smile. “So, I...today, I went to visit a friend, down by the community garden. He helped me realize some things about how I...how I feel about you.” She frowns in concentration. “I guess I should explain. Back on Krypton, we didn’t do things out of love or emotional attachment. It was all planned out, based on genetics and compatibility. We weren’t big on the whole ‘follow your heart’ thing.” She chuckles a little, looking at Lena as if she’ll understand where all of this is going.

 

Lena blinks. “Okay…?”

 

Kara stammers. “Oh, ye- yeah, so what I’m saying is, before today, I didn’t know what love felt like. I mean, I read romance novels, and I watched The Notebook, but I didn’t _know._ ”

 

An inkling of understanding. Oh. Is... _this_ where Kara’s going? Her first feeling is incredulity. It makes sense for _Lena_ to love Kara. The other way around? She’s not sure if that’s realistic.

 

Kara grins at her, that silly, lopsided smile. “I know now. I love you, Lena.”

 

“Oh.” Her breath escapes her in a whoosh. She feels a little lightheaded, a little disbelieving. “You’re sure?”

 

Kara gives her a strange look, half-smiling. “Yeah, Lena. I’m sure.”

 

Lena takes a shaky sip of her wine. “I….” She doesn’t have a reaction for this. She has one for when people say ‘I love you’ without meaning it. Not one for when people say it and they...they _mean_ it.

 

Then she remembers Kara lying in the medical bay, pale, silent, unconscious; she remembers how easily the words came then, and takes a breath.

 

“That’s a good thing,” she laughs, feeling lighter than air, “because I love you, too.”

 

Kara’s face lights up, delight spreading from her eyes to a slow smile that creeps across her mouth. “You — that’s —” She giggles, covering her hand with her mouth. “ _Cool._ ”

 

“It is pretty cool,” Lena laughs, a real, genuine laugh, and nothing seems to matter — not the paperwork she has to finish, not her mother — except that she’s sitting on the roof of the DEO with the woman she loves. _Who loves her back._

 

Kara grins, wide and joyous. “How long have you known?”

 

“For too long,” Lena admits, tangling their fingers together when Kara reaches out for her hand. “I always love too early. I didn’t want to tell you and scare you away.”

 

“Oh, Lena,” Kara sighs, and it’s blossoming affection that softens her eyes, warms Lena’s chest. “I think I did this out of order, but...will you be my girlfriend?”

 

“Of course,” Lena breathes, giddy on love. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

 

— — —

 

Lena smiles like she’s never been sad and it hurts Kara’s chest to see her so happy. They’re packing up now, folding the blanket away, blowing out the candles. A hesitancy still lingers, from previous hurts, despite the shared lingering glances and threads of tenuous desire that draw them ever closer. Kara doesn’t think she can deal with more cheek kisses when they’ve literally confessed their love to one another.

 

“Lena,” she begins, “would it be okay if I kissed you?”

 

Lena looks over. Her silhouette is outlined in city glow, neon lights and streetlights glancing off the fine planes of her cheekbones, catching like jewels in her eyes. The wind tugs at her hair. Kara’s seen the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, and the Mariana Trench, but there’s no feat of nature more beautiful than the woman standing before her. “Please do,” Lena says, and there’s a familiar quaver in her voice that Kara recognizes from their late nights in bed.

 

She takes a step forward. Lena turns towards her. It’s planetary, the way they slide back into each others’ orbits, inevitable on a massive scale. The space between them becomes unnecessary, nonexistent. Kara reaches out, cups Lena’s cheek. She leans into Kara’s touch, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you, Lena Luthor,” Kara murmurs, resting her forehead against Lena’s.

 

Lena’s hands rest on Kara’s hips, draw her closer. “I love you, too, Kara Danvers.” She nudges upwards,  lips brushing Kara’s — and Kara leans in, stealing the air from her lungs.

 

Ever since Kara’s been on Earth, she’s never experienced a moment of silence. Even in the depths of the sea, the faint pings of radar echo; in the vastness of the Arctic, ice creaks and oil rigs groan. Kissing Lena….it silences the world. For the first time, all Kara feels is the grounding warmth of Lena’s fingers on her hips, the soft press of her mouth. Nothing else exists.

 

Then Lena breathes out, an exalted gasp, and sound comes flooding back in a wild rush: the _thub thub_ of Lena’s heartbeat, the gush of blood through her veins, the compression of her lungs. The way her pulse ticks up when Kara pushes a little harder, licks into her mouth, tangles her fingers into dark hair. It’s overwhelming in a good, narcotic way.

 

Lena gasps, arches into Kara’s body, nips at her bottom lip, tugs at Kara’s hair — it’s too much in too little time. Kara jerks away, breathing hard. Lena stares at her, uncomprehending but worried. “Kara? Are you —”

 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” She’s breathing hard from the sensation of it all, from the delicious ache of Lena’s fingers scratching her scalp to the silk soft tease of her tongue. “It was just — a lot. You’re a lot. Which is a good thing, I’m just — wow.” She runs her hand through her hair, steadies herself. “Wow.”

 

Lena peers at her, still a fraction concerned. “Your leg is buzzing,” she observes. Kara looks down. Her phone, stuffed in her boot, is indeed ringing.

 

“Oh, it’s — it’s Alex.” She taps the answer button with a careful, barely shaky finger. “Hey, Alex, what’s up?”

 

“We’re doing mission briefing soon, if you want to come down.” A sigh. “Also, J’onn asks that you either make out somewhere else or do it more quietly.”

 

Kara blinks. “How do we _think_ more quietly?”

 

Alex makes a ‘I don’t know’ noise. “That’s your problem,” she says. “Don’t be late, please.”

 

“Okay, jeez.” Kara frowns, ending the call. “They’re doing the mission briefing soon, we should head down.”

 

Lena nods, blanket and pillows piled in her hands. “What was that about thinking quietly?”

 

Kara laughs, embarrassed. She opens the stairwell door for Lena and they begin to descend. “Um, apparently J’onn says we can’t make out here anymore because we think too loud.”

 

Lena hums, contemplative. “That makes sense. He probably doesn’t want to know all the things I’m thinking about you doing to me.” Kara splutters. Lena gives her an innocent, cheery smile. “What? It’s not like we haven’t _done_ a lot of those things.”

 

“That’s...true,” Kara mutters. “Poor J’onn, though. I’m pretty sure he has his hands full with Alex and Maggie.”

 

“Oh, right.” Lena makes a face. “I suppose we can think and do those things somewhere else, then.” She winks. Kara leans in and kisses her, just because. “What was that for?” Lena asks, breathless and smiley.

 

“I love you,” Kara tells her.

 

Lena looks at her like she’s the sun. “I love you, too.”

 

— — —

 

It’s nearing ten when the team starts to head out. Lena’s with Winn, looking over everything last minute. She’s learned all the names of the soldiers on the strike team, reviewed the plan three times and gone over it with Kara twice. There’s nothing left but the test of waiting.

 

“Hey,” Kara murmurs. Lena turns. Kara’s dressed in her usual Supergirl suit, but it’s a different color scheme — black where blue used to be, silver replacing gold, the red dark and more maroon. “We’re leaving soon,” she says, sounding apologetic for it.

 

Lena feels a spike of fear and she swallows it down. “Be safe,” she murmurs, tugging Kara into a hug. “Please.”

 

“I will.” Kara hugs her tight, and it feels too much like a goodbye for Lena’s taste. “You should get some rest. It might take a while.” They both know she won’t listen, but Kara offers it up anyways.

 

“I love you,” Lena whispers into Kara’s chest.

 

“Love you, too,” Kara whispers back.

 

Alex calls from across the room, reluctant to break them apart. “Supergirl, we’re heading out.”

 

“Be right there,” Kara answers. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she tells Lena. “Promise.”

 

“You better,” Lena threatens, the effect spoiled by the tremor in her voice. Kara pulls away, still hesitating, and Lena gives her a little push. “Go, get out of here.”

 

Kara smiles, trying to hide the reluctance with a grin. “Bye.”

 

“Bye.”

 

The clock says ten-fifty by the time the team is in position. The radio on the table crackles. “ _We’re all clear,_ ” somebody grunts.

 

“ _Copy that,_ ” comes Alex’s voice. “ _Move in._ ”

 

Lena paces behind Winn, who’s sitting at a full bank of computer monitors. In one corner are the security cameras, hacked to hide the sting team. In another is a running diagnostic of Lillian’s known funds and resources. Winn’s keeping track of information, the million eyes and ears watching every movement.

 

Lena pauses to aimlessly scan the inventory again. She’s gone through the list what feels like a million times. Nothing ever changes, they still have the same old chemicals—

 

A notification pops up on the screen. “Hold up,” Winn mutters, “Did you see that?”

 

Lena nods. “What just came in?” Winn pulls up the manifest.

 

“It came in this morning, just looks like they clocked it with the wrong time. There’s just more of the same, more nitrogen, some — radium. They just received a shipment of radium.” He turns to look at Lena. “Do they have —”

 

Lena doesn’t even have to look at the inventory. “They’ve got it all. Everything they need to make Kryptonite: radium, the compression chambers, the nitrogen.” From far away, the radio crackles.

 

“ _Alpha squad, entering building now.”_ That’s Kara’s team. Lena glances at the computer monitors; there they are, moving through the hallways.

 

“Shit,” Winn curses. He jabs at the button. “Alpha squad, what are your radiation levels?”

 

A pause. “ _We’re not getting anything, control.”_

 

Lena shakes her head, feeling panic thread into her blood. “They’re not _going_ to get anything, the whole place is shielded. They need to get out of there _right_ _now_ —”

 

“ _Shit, what was that?!”_ Even Winn and Lena can hear the _BOOM_ that shakes the cameras. “ _Control, what’s_ —” Another crash.

 

The screens go black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter four times. Not just bits of it, no. I rewrote. the. entire. thing. four. times. 
> 
> let me know what you liked and what you didn't! I live (literally) off your comments. <3


	9. Chapter 9

Kara opens her eyes and squints, trying to get her vision to focus.

 

There’s somebody prone on the floor in front of her. It takes a moment for her to recognize the face: Dawson Wolff. He’s a DEO agent on the alpha squad. She’s been friends with him since she arrived in National City; he had been the first one to show her around, the first one willing to help her with hand-to-hand combat training when Alex was busy. They still have dinner when there are long nights at the DEO, sharing jokes over takeout and catching up on each others’ lives.

 

Kara pushes herself into a sitting position, vision swimming. Her head feels stuffed with cotton, throat itchy and limbs loose. Dawson has a kid brother, who’s training to be a police officer. He’s teaching him how to play tennis. He showed Kara how to play, once; she’d broken the racket and launched a tennis ball fifteen miles away. Dawson’s a good fighter. Kara coughs; her throat aches like she’s coming down with a cold, iron-sweet taste coating her tongue. He takes care of his mother, too, who lives by herself on the quieter side of National City. He goes down every weekend to visit.

 

“Did you know him?” Lillian asks, standing behind Kara. She adjusts the knob on the machine that’s spewing out Kryptonite gas, delicate like she’s fixing a baby’s blanket.

 

Dawson’s neck is twisted at an impossible angle. His eyes stare sightless at the ceiling. “Yeah,” Kara rasps, staggering to her feet. “And you’re going to go away for a _very_ long time for what you’ve done.”

 

Corben barks a laugh from where he’s standing, watching Kara get to her feet again. He’s hit her — how many times? Kara can feel each imprint of his fist on her face, the print of his boot across her ribs.

 

“I don’t think so, Supergirl,” Lillian says, still wearing her lab coat. The alpha squad had stormed the lab. They’d caught Lillian in the midst of escaping through a dynamite-blasted tunnel into the sewers. They’d been so close, then — what had happened? “It doesn’t look like any of your agents will be conscious — or alive — to arrest me.”

 

Kara coughs, heaves air into her lungs, tries to put her fists back up. This Kryptonite gas affects her in strange ways. She can still hear everything in the room: the shouts and pops of muffled gunfire as the DEO agents fight against the alien convicts Lillian’s sicced on them; the whir of the gas machine; the crunch of her own bones when Corben hits her. But she can barely stand. Barely see, barely smell anything but her own blood and the sickly sweet of her destroyed planet.

 

“There’s backup on the way,” she says, inching closer to the gas machine. “You’re not getting out of here.”

 

Corben lunges at her and Kara trips over her own feet, barely stumbling out of the way. Lillian sighs, as if disappointed. “I hardly think that’s a legitimate threat, Supergirl.”  Corben rushes towards her again and this time she trips him. He goes sprawling. Lillian’s voice hardens. “You should have left my daughter alone.”

 

“Why?” Kara spits, staggering a few feet away so she can regain her breath. The world is tilting on a different axis she is and there isn’t enough air into her lungs. “What more do you want from Lena?”

 

“I want her to open her eyes,” Lillian snaps. “I want her to see you as I do. For what you really are.” She twists the knob up and Kara chokes, dizzy. “A _liar.”_

 

Corben — he’s a foot away, when did he get there? — pulls his fist back and clocks her in the jaw. Starbursts of pain radiate from her face and she staggers back. In the distance, she can hear somebody groaning in pain. “Leave — leave her alone,” Kara pants, clutching her jaw. Corben lashes out, a wild haymaker that’s too fast for Kara to block.

 

She’s on the floor again. “Tell me, Supergirl. What does my darling Lena see in you?” Lillian cranks the knob higher. Kara sobs, pulls in shuddering breaths. The air burns her throat but she still can’t breathe, can’t get enough _air._ “Is it that desire for the spotlight? Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know you like being the center of attention. And Lena...well.” Lillian tsks. “She says I didn’t love her enough as a child. As if that’s an excuse for what she’s done to Lex’s company.”

 

Kara pushes herself up with trembling arms. “That’s a _lie.” Lena’s selfless,_ she wants to say. _She’s so much_ **_better_ ** _than you’ll ever be._ There’s not enough air in her lungs to form the words.

 

“Is it? Maybe it’s the undeserved praise. You, ‘saving’ the city. Meanwhile Lena tries to get away from me using a company I helped build. There’s nothing _bold_ about changing a name.” Lillian narrows her eyes at Kara. Corben’s foot connects with her side and she goes back down, gasping for air, black spots flickering in her vision. She only catches the last half of Lillian’s next sentence. “ — or is it because she thinks you’re _pretty?_ ”

 

Kara gets a flash of memory, just two hours ago at the DEO.

 

_“I’ll be back before you know it,” she tells Lena. “Promise.”_

 

_“You better,” Lena threatens, and there’s a quaver in her voice that speaks of too much loss and broken promises more common than not._

 

“Hasn’t she — suffered enough already?” Kara rasps, breathing hard. She has to get help. Has to destroy the machine. Has to see Lena one more time. “Why won’t you just — just leave her _alone?”_

 

Lillian’s expression tightens, cruel and regal. “I want her to see _through_ you, Supergirl. For the fraud you really are.” Corben stalks closer. Kara can barely see him through fuzzy vision, can only hear the soft tap of his shoes as he comes ever closer. “Not as a hero. Just another _alien.”_

 

Kara rolls over, crawls away. Anything to get her breath back, to figure out how to stand up again, to make her brain work. “An alien?” She coughs, drags herself up using a lab table. “Like the ones you’re — you’re using now?”

 

Lillian casts a cursory glance at the small army of released alien convicts currently locked in combat with the rest of the alpha squad. There’s everything from skeletal, arthropodic Exodans to the amorphous, gaseous Ssilibyx. All prisoners, broken out from the same prison as Moles. “Collateral damage. They won’t be missed.” Kara lunges at the table where the gas machine rests. Lillian slaps her, sending fluttering waves of black across her vision. Kara reels and stumbles, collapsing. “Not even you will miss them.” Lillian picks up the gun from the table, flicking the safety off.

 

Kara wheezes. There’s no air. She can’t breathe. She can’t move. “Lil — Lillian, d-don’t —”

 

Lillian levels the gun at her head.

 

Kara remembers Lena’s voice.

 

_“I love you.”_

 

_“I love you, too.”_

 

“Who will miss you, Supergirl?”

 

— — —

 

The explosion sends Alex’s heart rate skyrocketing, her heart plummeting into the earth. She grabs for the radio. “Kara?” Static. “Winn? Lena, anybody?” Nothing. Alex turns to her second in command. “Clear the rest of the rooms. Guardian and I will check on the source of that explosion.” The rest of delta squad moves off and James shoots her a look.

 

“That came from downstairs.” _Where Kara should be_ goes unspoken.

 

Alex shakes her head, expression grim. “I know.”

 

The hallways of the lab are lit by nothing but blue-white fluorescence, off-white walls soaked in sterility and the air oppressive under the silence. Their reflections spin across metal fridges, microscopes, lab benches. The tile squeaks under their boots. “Lillian knows we’re here,” James mutters, as they round another corner. “She must have known we were coming.”

 

Alex glances back at him, eyebrows creased. “I don’t think Lena told her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

 

His eyes widen. “No, that’s not —” He shakes his head. “Lena wouldn’t. Lillian’s smart, though. She had to have known we’d figure it out eventually.”

 

Alex checks the radios again. “I need eyes on everybody,” she grunts, pulling out her phone. “I’m calling Winn.”

 

It picks up on the first ring. It’s Lena. “Alex, is Kara —”

 

“Lena, I need you to listen to me. Our radios are down, and I haven’t been able to get into contact with the other squad. I need you two to stay on the line and get the cameras back on so we can get an idea of what we’re up against.”  


A shaky exhale. “We’re on it.”

 

Winn speaks from a distance. “Have you found Kara yet?”

 

James kicks open the stairwell door and they begin to descend. “No. Not yet.”

 

“The lab, it’s got everything it needs to make Kryptonite. They just received radium this morning, but we didn’t clock it until it was too late.”

 

Alex checks the Geiger counter on her belt. “I’m not detecting any radiation here.”

 

Lena huffs, and there’s the sound of computer keys. “Yes, they’ve got lead shielding, but it’s only in parts of the building. You should be able to detect _something._ ” She makes a sound of frustration. “Lillian must have done something to it. Changed it somehow.”

 

They reach the bottom of the stairwell. There’s the sound of gunfire on the other side of the door, and James exchanges a look with Alex. “Tell us if anything changes — ” The line fizzes and beeps. Alex curses. “Dammit.” There’s no signal downstairs.

 

James shifts his shield, eyes hard. “You ready?”

 

Alex raises her gun. “Let’s go.”

 

They emerge onto a scene of chaos.

 

They’re in a hallway that curves around the underground lab. The room itself is semi-circular and surrounded by glass windows, affording them a perfect view of the battle raging within. What used to be clean, neatly arranged scientific equipment is either all destroyed or in the process of being destroyed. And in the center of it all —

 

“Holy shit,” James breathes, horrified. “That’s a lot of aliens.”

 

A trio of agents, backed into a corner, pour bullets into the chest of another stone man. He barely flinches, moving forward with the impassive inevitability of a continental plate. Another group of agents face off against two skittery, insectoid Exodans, backs pressed together and desperation clear on their faces. Bodies litter the floor, more humans than aliens. Alex swallows and moves forward. She still can’t see Kara, only what looks to be a losing battle.

 

“They’re dying out there,” James whispers, aghast. “Alex, we need to go —”

 

“I know,” she says, trying to think. None of the aliens have spotted them yet. They’ve got options. There has to be a better way than just rushing in, guns ablaze. “ _Lillian_. She has to be here somewhere. If we take her down, they won’t have a unifying force.” She dashes down the hallway, still looking for the distinctive red of Kara’s cape. “I know some of these aliens. They’re cowards. The only reason they’re fighting is because Lillian’s behind them —”

 

She comes up short. _Kara._ Lying there, on her back, with Lillian raising a gun to her head —

  
“ _James_ _—_ “

 

He’s ahead of her, dashing towards the windows, shield held in front of him.

 

Alex follows. They burst into the lab in an explosion of glass. Lillian glances up and Alex’s bullet hits her in the shoulder, spinning the gun out of her hand. “ _PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”_ Alex shouts, voice vibrating with rage. “ _Do it now!”_

 

Corben meets James’ with a savage snarl, fist glancing off the surface of his shield. The angle sends him staggering. James takes advantage of his stumble and kicks his feet out from under him, wrestling him to the ground. “Stay _down_ _!"_  he hisses, twisting Corben’s arms behind his back. “You’re under arrest.”

 

Alex rushes forward, kicks Lillian’s gun away. “Put your hands _up,_ Lillian!”

 

“Agent Danvers.” Lillian barely seems to notice she’s been shot. She tsks, disappointed. “It looks like you’re too late.” Alex glances at Kara, at the machine on the table, back at Kara, who’s not — she’s _barely_ breathing. The rise and fall of her chest is terrifyingly shallow.

 

“ _What did you do?”_ Alex recognizes the machine. It’s a larger version of the kind of dispersal units that are banned for their use in biochemical weapons. She presses forward, snarling. “Turn it off, or I _won’t_ hesitate to shoot you again.”

 

Kara coughs. Lillian purses her lips and reaches for the knob. “Well. You never know when to quit, do you —”

 

Alex hasn’t ever pistol-whipped anybody before, but she’s pretty sure Lillian deserves it. The barrel of the gun cracks across Lillian’s cheek and she slumps to the floor. Alex rushes to the machine, spinning the knob down. There’s that familiar, sickly green glow emanating from the inner chamber of the machine and Alex feels nauseated. “Supergirl?” she calls over her shoulder, checking the machine for any other indicators. There’s a hissing noise that’s slowing down now. “Supergirl, _please_ talk to me.”

 

“I —” Another chest-wracking cough. She sounds like she’s been smoking three packs a day. “I’m f-fine.”

 

Alex yanks Lillian to her feet, handcuffs out. “Lillian Luthor, you’re under arrest.” For once, the woman doesn’t have anything to say to that, blood dripping down her face. Alex raises her voice, whirling to the other aliens. “The rest of you —”

 

Delta squad kicks through the doors in a hail of bullets. “Shit,” Alex mutters, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on what could’ve been prevented, dropping to her knees by her sister’s side. “Supergirl? Supergirl, talk to me.”

 

“We g-got her,” Kara rasps, breathing short and quick, “right?”

 

“Yeah,” Alex exhales, hands playing over the spotty bruises darkening on Kara’s face, the tears in her suit. “We got her.”

 

“Good,” Kara sighs, relaxing. “I’m going to pass out now.”

 

— — —

 

The operation happens so quickly that Lena’s not even sure she realizes it’s happening.

 

Black vans roll up to Evolution Sciences with a lethal casualness, unloading black-outfitted agents by the docking bay. Lena doesn’t see most of it; she’s in one of the vans, the one outfitted with a siren and flashing lights. The DEO ambulance. One of many.

 

Winn’s still at the DEO, working frantically to restore communications and manage the extraction operation from home base. She wishes he were here. She doesn’t know what to do with herself amidst the bustle of secret government operatives.

 

She does perceive the bright fluorescence of the docking bay, the harsh blue-silver light and the drab gray concrete floor. She sees the inside of the ambulance, half-portable lab and half-EMS, and she finds herself examining the equipment, distracting herself from reality with hard science. She remembers glimpsing stark black sky, the crisp night air sharp on her skin, keeping her awake.

 

Time snaps back into place when she glimpses the stretcher emerging from the elevator, paramedics steady by its side. “Kara!” Lena scrambles out of the ambulance.

 

“Lillian found a way to vaporize Kryptonite,” Alex tells her, hands smeared with red, voice tight with worry. “I have no idea how much she inhaled.” There’s a whole lot of something like trust in the next words and Lena’s muscles tense at the idea of it. “I have to stay. Keep her safe.”  

 

There isn’t another option. “I will.”

 

James hops onboard with the stretcher. Lena looks at Kara — at the bruises red and angry on her skin, at the blood matted in her hair — and then understands the cost of Kara’s job, of her duty to protect. And while it’s easier to for Lena compartmentalize, now that she’s seen Kara come back from far worse, it doesn’t make the fear any less real.

 

There are contusions on Kara’s forehead and jaw, her nose broken, blood dry and tacky on her face. Lena helps the paramedic cut off Kara’s cape, peeling away the bulletproof material away. He starts working on removing her suit, scissors flashing.

 

“What are you going to do?” James asks, as Lena starts to review chemistry fundamentals in her head.

 

“I’m not sure. Kryptonite _gas..._ I don’t suppose you have Superman on speed dial, do you?” Lena’s mind races, tries to find everything she knows about Kryptonite. The radiation, they should be able to counteract that with sun lamps like they usually do. She’s not sure what else Lillian might’ve slipped into the gas — it’s logical to assume that with Supergirl weakened, human nerve gases would have affected her — but no, wait. Alex hadn’t been showing any symptoms. “Were you near the gas? Did you inhale any?”

 

James has his phone to his ear. “Yeah, I did. Everybody in the room did.”

 

“No symptoms,” Lena mutters. “Okay. So if there’s really nothing else, then sun lamps should be able to counteract it, but —”

 

“Hello?” James says. “Clark. Kara’s been exposed to Kryptonite gas. Do you know any —”

 

The ambulance gives a jolt, then the driver gives a short shout of shock. They peer into the front cab.

 

Superman gives them a wave through the windshield. “Hold on,” he mouths, and then they’re _flying._

 

“I was kidding about that,” Lena mumbles, wide-eyed.

 

James meets her gaze. “I wasn’t.”

 

Lena imagines that she’ll be rudely delegated to waiting outside again, like last time, but the doctors seem to have gotten Alex’s message. She’s herded, along with the paramedics, down long dream-like hallways. Kara’s hand is limp in her own.

 

Superman relays information to the doctors in his low, soothing voice. “There’s nothing you can do to deal with the effects of the gas except to put her in the sunbed, but I’d do that after you deal with her injuries.” He doesn’t make any comment on Lena’s presence, but turns to her instead. “Ms. Luthor. You’re aware of how Kryptonite works?”

 

To her surprise, her voice sounds steady and confident. “I know that the material itself blocks your ability to synthesize sunlight. I don’t know how the radiation works, or why it affects Kryptonians so severely.”

 

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure, either. Bruce told me, once, but…” He glances at Kara, eyebrows furrowed. “All I know is that the effects will last longer than usual due to the nature of the gas. It might take a few days for her powers to come back. It’s no cause for concern unless it lasts longer than a week.” He catches Lena’s gaze, eyes softening. “She’s going to be okay.”

 

Lena starts to understand why Superman makes such a good hero. There’s something inherently reassuring about a handsome man telling you things will be okay in a deep voice — like how Morgan Freeman can say anything and people will listen, enraptured and in complete agreement. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and he gives her a knowing, comforting smile.

  
“Of course.” His gaze goes distant, the way Kara looks when she’s listening to something in another place. “I have to go. Keep me updated.”

 

“Uh, yeah.” They arrive at medical bay and Lena doesn’t get time to dwell on the oddity of the situation. This is about when the emotions hit, which is really annoying, because Lena _despises_ lack of control. Especially in a situation like this, when Kara needs her in control. Alex said to keep her safe.

 

“We’ll take care of her,” the doctor repeats, louder, and Lena finally looks at him. “Ms. Luthor, please go with the nurse.”

 

She supposes that she will, since there isn’t much she can do to help in this strange state of limbo. She imagines what she feels right now is a lot like what would happen if you aimed a flamethrower and a fire extinguisher at each other. The terror is cancelled out by the fact that Kara is going to recover. And it really — it’s really not as bad as it was last time, right?

 

“Ms. Luthor, please sit down,” the nurse encourages, leading her outside the room. “Kara’s injuries aren’t intensive. The worst of it is a broken nose and bruised ribs. As soon as she starts breathing normally again, the doctors will put her under the sunbed.” Lena nods. This makes sense. “See? She’s conscious now.”

 

Lena looks through the glass. Kara stares back at her, weak smile on her face. “Stop smiling, you dork,” Lena mutters, wiping away the tear that slips down her cheek. “You have a broken nose.”

 

Kara grins, and winces. “Love you,” she mouths.

 

Lena sighs, sniffles. “Love you, too.”

 

— — —

 

Kara stares at the sunlamps. The light is so... _warm,_ like lying in an oven. It feels really good. She feels like a cat lying in the sun. Content. Soft. She wonders if it would be weird if she tried to purr. She closes her eyes and basks in the warmth.

 

Wow, the light is so nice. Really comforting. Like how it feels when she hugs Lena, but the light’s like a... _giant_ hug. It feels so good and...why’s she in the sunbed, anyways? She usually despises just lying around. It really...does feel good, though, really nice….

 

... _Lillian_. They’d gone to capture her, and — oh, no. The gas. Kara tries to sit up and her side vehemently protests against it, pain flaring bright. “Ow,” she whispers, and the doctor rushes over.

 

“Kara, please, just lie down. You’ve got several bruised ribs and you’re still healing.”

 

“Still?” she asks, voice torn. Rao, her throat hurts. “How — how long’s it been? Where’s Lena?”

 

“A couple of hours. She’s waiting outside, she’ll be right in. Hold still, please.” He checks over Kara’s vitals, flashing a light in her eyes. “How do you feel?”

 

Kara suppresses a cough. “Like I’m dying.”

 

“Body aches? Are you cold?”

 

Kara shakes her head and regrets it, mind tilting weirdly. “Uh. I’m dizzy. Yes to body aches.”

 

“Your cousin said that would be normal. It’s going to take much longer for you to heal, so I want you to stay still, okay?” Kara hums and closes her eyes, tries to breathe shallower to avoid aggravating her throat. It feels like she’s swallowed sand. Man, she could use some water right now.

 

A new voice. “Kara?”

 

Her eyes snap open. “Lena!” Her voice cracks and breaks and she winces, coughing. “Hey,” she tries, whispering.

 

“Shhh, don’t talk,” Lena murmurs. She’s wearing one of Kara’s t-shirts, the one she keeps in her locker for emergencies, and jeans. Her hair is down, shadows under her eyes. Kara reaches out and touches Lena’s hair.

 

“Wow,” she whispers. “Soft.”

 

Lena glances at the doctor. “Doctor? Is she, um, supposed to be fully cognizant?”

 

He shakes his head. “She’s on some pretty strong painkillers at the moment, so there’s a chance she’ll be little loopy. It’ll wear off after another few hours.”

 

“I am _fine,_ ” Kara insists, voice raspy. “Two plus two is _four._ ”

 

“Very good, Kara,” Lena says, looking like she’s trying not to laugh and not doing a very good job of it. “Do you remember anything? Alex is on the way back. She wants me to ask you what happened.” She puts something into Kara’s hands — a laptop. “So you don’t have to talk.” She pushes a button by the bed and the sunbed reclines slightly up.

 

Kara taps at the keys gingerly, then a little harder, then as hard as she can. _Wait,_ she types, _I can’t hear anything._ It’s not complete silence, but….it’s close. All she can hear is her own raspy breathing, the hum of the sunlamps...she can’t even hear Lena’s heartbeat. Her own heart gives a panicky flail at the thought and Kara grabs Lena’s wrist, feeling for her pulse. It takes a moment but she finds it, steady and solid.

 

Lena stares at her, confused for a second. “ _Oh._ You mean your powers? Clark said that your exposure to the gas would leave you powerless for a few days. They’ll come back within a week.”

 

 _I’m so glad you exist,_ Kara types. _You understand what I mean even when it doesn’t make sense. :)_ She grins.

 

Lena sighs, looks away, smile fluttering at the corners of her mouth. “I’m glad you exist, too.” Her phone chimes. “Alex needs to know what happens,” she reminds, reluctant to change the topic.

 

 _Oh right, okay._ Kara closes her eyes, recalls the moment. The silence helps. She doesn’t have to hear the conversations going on down the block, nor the squeak of car brakes on the street. _The explosion, we went to investigate it. It came from downstairs. We went down._ She grimaces at the memory. _Now that I know what it was...my leg gave out on the way down. I think it was from the gas._ She stares at the screen, at the little clock in the corner that blinks 5:20 AM and then grabs Lena’s hand again. “Have you slept?” she whispers.

 

“Shhhh,” Lena insists. “Stop talking. I’m fine, I took a nap.”

 

_Okay how long have I been out? I don’t remember when we entered the building._

 

“We extracted you at one in the morning,” Lena tells her. “You were in and out of consciousness, and then you fell asleep at two.”

 

_how bad is it?_

 

“Broken nose, bruised ribs,” Lena says, as if she’s reciting a list from memory. “Lots of bruises. Somebody hit you in the face a lot.”

 

_oh no my face! That’s my best asset :(_

 

“It is not,” Lena chuckles. “Obviously, that award goes to —”

 

 _my delectable ass, of course ;)_ Kara snickers and then winces. _Ow._

 

“Shut up,” Lena mutters, biting her lip. She hits the backspace key. “I’m sending this to Alex when you’re done.”

 

 _I’ll just delete it._ Kara shrugs delicately. _My best asset is definitely my boobs, wouldn’t you agree?_

 

“It’s your damn personality,” Lena hisses, tapping backspace. Spots of red are faint on her cheeks. “We can sext or whatever later, Kara, just finish the report.”

 

 _aw fine._ Kara pouts. _Kiss me?_

 

Lena makes a face. “No! Your _nose is broken_ , Kara, I don’t want to mess it up.”

 

 _um last time I checked you use your mouth to kiss, not your nose._ Kara gives Lena a meaningful look. _Pleeeeasee?_

 

“Fine.” Lena presses a kiss to the back of Kara’s hand. Kara stares at her, unamused. “Write,” Lena orders. Kara sticks her tongue out. “Real mature, Kara.”

 

 _I’m technically sixty-one years old, Lena._ Kara wiggles her eyebrows, smirking. _I’m a cougar._

 

“Ohmygod,” Lena mutters, closing her eyes. “Kara, please.”

 

 _Fiiiine._ She taps her fingers on the keys, thinking. _So we went downstairs. the lab looked empty, at first, but we went in hot anyways. I remember thinking that I felt a little dizzy. Lillian was near the back of the room. I guess she hadn’t expected us so soon? It looked like she’d used explosives to blast a hole underground, to escape into the sewer system._

 

Lena scoffs. “There’s no way that was her best plan of escape. Lillian wouldn’t use a sewer unless it was a last-ditch attempt. We picked the right time.”

 

Kara frowns. _She was still prepared for us, though. A bunch of aliens ambushed the DEO agents when we went ahead to arrest Lillian._ She pauses for a moment. She’d gone ahead, nerves jittery on the adrenaline of being so close to capturing Lillian that she’d forgotten to listen. And sure, the gas had been affecting her by then, but how many lives could she have saved if she’d just _waited_ a little longer?

 

Dawson. Kara sniffles, winces at the movement. He’s dead. Because of her.

 

Lena reaches out and rests her palm on Kara’s wrist, gentle. “Kara?”

 

“I fucked up,” she mumbles. Lena frowns, ready to shush her. _I fucked up,_ she types. _I was so...excited, I guess, to arrest Lillian that I didn’t listen for any danger. I could have prevented more of those agents from dying. The aliens, they weren’t even hidden that well, I should’ve heard them and I should’ve done something instead of just rushing forward_

 

“Kara,” Lena says, firm and in a tone of voice that makes Kara stop typing. “You can’t do this.”

 

_Do what?_

 

“Blame yourself. My mother, she…” Lena exhales. “She does this on purpose. She manipulates people and situations to make you feel like it’s your fault when it’s not. When I….” She looks away, pulls strength from some hidden reservoir. “When I was in middle school, she didn’t like me riding my bicycle around with Lex. She thought it wasn’t ladylike, so she forbade me from doing it. I was in a rebellious stage, though, and she knew that. I did it anyways.” She laughs, soft and humorless. “Lex helped me sneak the bike out. One day, we almost got hit by a car, and...Lex broke his arm.” She meets Kara’s gaze and there’s nothing but hardness in her eyes. “She kept asking me if it would have happened if I hadn’t been there, if I could have prevented it by listening to her. I was terrified of riding bikes after that.”

 

Kara doesn’t know what to say to that. _I’m sorry. That’s horrible._

 

Lena chuckles. “Yeah, well, that was my mother. She has this terrible way of knowing exactly what you’re going to do and using it against you. She knew you were going to be there, because that’s what you do. She knows how you always go in the front, to protect the agents from bullets. That’s how she gets you. And then she plans things to go badly, until everything feels like it’s your fault.”

 

It makes sense. Horrible, terrible sense. _I see,_ she types. What else can you say?

 

“What happened after that?” Lena prompts gently.

 

Kara takes a breath. _um they started fighting, I guess. I started getting really dizzy around then and I don’t really remember it that well. I know I heard them start shooting. And Corben came out of nowhere and we started fighting. He’s the one who hit me a bunch of times._

 

Lena huffs. “Good thing we have him in custody.”

 

Kara gives her a small grin. _Yeah, he totally messed up my best asset._

 

Lena rolls her eyes, but her expression is fond. “And then?”

 

 _Lillian started turning up the gas I think. I don’t really remember. She shit-talked you a bunch. Said that I was a fraud or something._ Kara makes a face. _Typical villain monologue._

 

“Of course,” Lena mutters. “She wouldn’t pass up a chance for that, not with you incapacitated.”

 

Kara giggles. _thats a big word._ There is something about that word, connotations aside, that makes it sound funny. Why are there so many sounds in it?

 

A single eyebrow arches up. “Incapacitated?”

 

 _that’s like ten syllables._ Kara chuckles to herself. _youre so smart._

 

“Thank you.” Lena smiles and the affection in her eyes is so sweet that Kara wants to cry a little. Lena’s voice turns concerned. “Kara?”

 

Oh, she is actually crying. _i’m fine I just missed you._ It’s strange. Usually she can feel the tears coming long before they do, the sharp burn behind her eyes and the liquid moving through her tear ducts. Without her powers, the tears seem to have snuck up on her.

 

“I’m right here,” Lena murmurs, moving in close, so Kara can lean against her. “I’m right here.”

 

_thank you for being here._

 

“Of course,” Lena murmurs, wrapping a careful arm around Kara. “Always.”

 

Kara feels fragile, all of a sudden. Like a wave of exhaustion has just swept over her, stealing the energy from her limbs. _I’m tired,_ she types. _Am I allowed to sleep?_

 

“Yes, of course. Just...uh, is there anything else that you remember after that?”

 

_Well. Corben kept hitting me and Lillian kept turning the gas up. It was hard to breathe. and she kept turning it up and it felt like I was drowning and Corben kept hitting_

 

Kara remembers to breathe, exhaling a taut gust of air from her lungs. She can sense the anger radiating off of Lena’s body. 

 

 _me. And she turned it up until I could barely breathe, and I was on the ground. I think she slapped me. She kept talking about you and I wanted her to stop, but I couldn’t stop her._ She pauses, tries to think through the best course of action, but her head feels muddled and fuzzy. In a different way than the gas, though. This is looseness. She feels pliable and her thoughts slip through her filter like sand. _She had a gun,_ Kara types, without thinking. _And she was going to shoot me, but Alex shot her I think. I don’t really remember that part._

 

Lena stills, body going stiff. Kara can feel the change in her, like when a predatory cat decides it’s done playing.

 

_Are you okay?_

 

“Yes. Just...give me a moment.” She takes steady breaths. Unrolls her fists and smooths away the crinkle between her brows. “She tried to kill you,” Lena mutters, more to herself than to Kara.

 

_Yeah, but that’s like, normal._

 

Lena makes a frustrated noise. “It shouldn’t be.”

 

 _But it is,_ Kara types. _And it’s okay. I’m here now. I’m totally fine._ She nudges a kiss to the crook of Lena’s elbow, looking up at her.

 

“I hate her,” Lena sighs, and Kara starts to type. “But I’m done with her.” Kara stops. “I’m done. She’s not getting a say in my life anymore. I’m going to make sure of it.”

 

Kara squirms closer to Lena. _I’ll be right by your side._

 

“Thanks, Kara.” Lena’s smile is watery. “I love you.”

 

 _I love you, too._ Kara snuggles her face into Lena’s soft, comfy stomach and sighs. _I’m gonna go to sleep now._

 

Lena runs a gentle hand through Kara’s hair.“Okay, Kara. I’ll be right here.”

 

— — —

 

She must fall asleep, too, because the next thing Lena knows they’re both squeezed on the sunbed and Alex is shaking her awake. “Hey,” she murmurs, dark shadows under her eyes and blood still under her nails. “C’mon, let’s get you someplace more comfortable to sleep.”  


“But —” Lena gets up on sleep-numb legs, drowsy and uncomprehending as Alex leads her from the room. “I tol’ her I’d be there.”

 

Alex guides her down the hall. “Don’t worry,” she reassures. “Kara will understand.”

 

Lena yawns and tries to rub the grit from her eyes. God, she feels utterly exhausted, even though it’s now….eight in the morning? Her clock is all thrown off. “Jess is probably worried,” she mumbles. “What day is it?”

 

“It’s Friday,” Alex tells her. “Did you talk to Kara a lot? Was she conscious?”

 

Lena shivers in the cool air, missing the warmth of Kara’s sunbed. “I just had her type up everything that happened. She was conscious but kinda out of it, from the medications.” They’re in a conference room now. Lena rubs her arms at the blast of the air conditioning.

 

Alex sits down at the table, where a laptop is open to a familiar document. “So she wrote this?” she asks, gingerly.

 

Lena peers down at the screen.

 

_I love you, too._

 

Oh. “Uh, I meant to clean that up for the report,” she begins, but Alex stops her with a knowing look.

 

“She finally figured it out.”

 

Lena crosses her arms, trying to keep warm. “Yes,” she says. “We’re in love.” She uses the words like a shield and a sword at the same time — sharp, as an attack, but also as a defense against any criticisms.

 

“Lena,” Alex sighs, lips curving up, “I think we all knew that before you two did.”

 

Lena frowns. “What?” That can’t be right. She’d been in denial for so long, and Kara said she’d only _just_ realized it —   


“It’s kind of obvious,” Alex says, softly. “It’s in the way you look at each other. And the rest just….makes sense in that context. But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She gestures to the nearest chair. “Sit.”

 

“Is this a shovel talk?” Lena yawns. “Because I think it’s a bit too late for that.”

 

Alex’s smile is wry. “Yeah. You two beat me to the angst. This is about Supergirl, though. About who Kara is.” Lena’s awake now. “Being Supergirl is more than just a job. It’s part of her. I’m not saying you will, but….” Alex exhales. “You can’t ask her to change that for you. She puts herself in danger willingly, to save people. That’s part of her identity. I’m not _accusing_ you of doing it, I’m just...warning you, I guess. Because that’s what she’s afraid of.”

 

Lena rubs her arms and pulls her feet up onto the chair, knees to her chin. “She’s afraid of me wanting her to change?”

 

Alex makes a face. “Not necessarily _you,_ but just anybody who gets close to her. She’s always been afraid to let anybody get close because she doesn’t want to feel guilty for going out and doing what she loves. She’s never been able to really….trust in someone before.” The look is meaningful and Lena swallows.

 

“I understand.”

 

“Good.” Alex glances at the laptop. Lena gets the feeling that she’s looking for something more to say. “She really likes you,” Alex offers, smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

 

Lena looks away to hide the grin that spreads across her face. “I really like her.”

 

Alex hums, messing with the laptop. “You better get ready to feed her. She eats an unbelievable amount of food.”

 

Lena’s drowsy brain forgets who she’s speaking to. “Oh, don’t worry, she’s eaten me — _with me,_ she’s eaten _with_ me, before, yeah, lots of times.” _Oh my god, Lena, what the hell._ Alex, thankfully, doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

 

“Guys?”

 

They turn. Kara’s in the doorway, draped in blankets and hair sticking up wildly. “Hey,” Lena greets, standing. “Sorry I left, Alex wanted to talk to me.”

 

“Mmm. Come back,” Kara mumbles, rubbing her eyes. She holds her arms out and Lena sinks into the hug eagerly. “Hey, Alex.”

 

“Hey yourself.” Lena can feel Alex watching them. Not judging. Just observing. “Did the doctor clear you?”

 

“Yeah,” Kara says. She rubs Lena’s back and _god,_ Lena could fall asleep right here, right now. Kara’s still absurdly warm even without her powers and the cold is Lena’s worst enemy. Kara sighs. “Oh. They wanted me to tell you that Lillian’s been asking for you.”

 

Lena feels herself start to tense and forces her muscles to relax, to remember that she’s safe. That Kara’s okay, she’s right here. Lillian’s locked up. She can’t hurt them. “I’ll go talk to her,” she mumbles.

 

“Do you want me to come with you?” Kara asks. “Or Alex?” Lena can almost feel the silent conversation floating over her head. For once, it doesn’t feel like she’s being left out. It’s...comforting. Knowing that they’re concerned for her.

 

“I’ll be fine.” Lena untangles herself from Kara’s arms before she loses all motivation to leave. Kara holds her hands, eyebrows creased in worry, and Lena gives her a smile. “Really. I just need to talk to her alone.”

 

Kara hesitates. “Do you want me to wait outside, at least?”

 

Lena leans up on her toes and kisses Kara’s cheek. “I can do it,” she whispers. “Trust me?”

 

Kara exhales and nods, smile small. “I do. I’ll be right here, okay?”

 

Lena squeezes her hand. “Thank you.”

 

Her mother looks terrible. In fact, it may be the worst Lena’s ever seen her at. Even the time when she found Lionel’s mistress, she’d been put together — frosty and cunning, words sharpened and ready to hurl like throwing knives. Not so now.

 

She’s sitting on the edge of the bed in the cell, hair down. They’ve given her a prison jumpsuit and it’s baggy, big enough to swallow her whole. A nasty bruise splits her cheek on one side. Another time, Lena would have felt vicious vindication at the sight. Now, though, she just feels….pity.

 

“Lillian.”

 

The woman looks up. “I was wondering when you would decide to grace me with your presence.” She crosses her legs. Somehow, even in prison orange, she radiates imperial control. “You’re making a mistake.”

 

“How?” Lena crosses her arms. It’s cold. She misses Kara. “You tried to _kill_ me.”

 

Lillian seems to have not heard. “You’re going to choose that _alien_ over your family. Haven’t I taught you anything, Lena?” She stands, hands folded in front of her. Lena stifles the subtle thread of fear that slithers down her spine, instinctual. She has nothing to fear. “They will _always_ betray you. You can’t trust them. Look what they did to Lex —”

 

“Lex did that to himself,” Lena hisses. “And you helped. You’re not my _family_ , Lillian.”

 

“You’re really doing it, then.” Lillian looks at her with something akin to furious amazement in her eyes. “You’re siding with Supergirl over your family.”

 

Lena feels her nails bite into her palms and forces her fists to relax. “You stopped being my family the moment you decided my life was worth more as a pawn than as your daughter.”

 

It’s gruesome, the way fury morphs to soft, faux genuine care in the blink of an eye. “Lena,” she begins, “Give me another chance. Things will be different this time, I promise. Let me be your mother.”

 

Lena can imagine another world, another time where she’d take that. Even thank Lillian for it. “No.”

 

Lillian seems taken aback by the vehemence of her answer. “Lena, I’m your mother. I know you feel alone, like I’ve left you —”

 

“You _have,_ ” Lena laughs, bewildered. “You tried to _kill_ me. And — you know what? This isn’t going to work on me anymore.” She shakes her head, steels her shoulders. “You don’t get to — to deprive me of love and affection and then hold it over my head and then pretend like you’re going to make everything better. Like you’re _actually_ going to love me this time.”

 

“Lena.” Lillian doesn’t look fazed. If anything, she looks...sad? “Lena, I’ve always loved you.”

 

Lena scoffs, and for once hearing that lie doesn’t bring tears to her eyes. It just makes her angrier. “We both know that’s not true. You’re only saying it now because you need me. You know I used to” — she breaks off, the memories vicious and raw — “I used to believe you. Because I needed that. I needed to believe that I deserved somebody’s love, you know?” The words crack and shatter into her throat. Lena sniffles, wipes tears away with an uncaring hand. “But now I know I do. And do you want to know why?”

 

There’s a flicker of danger in Lillian’s eyes now — something that used to make Lena balk, hide, prepare apologies for uncommitted crimes — and Lena knows she’s won. “Please,” Lillian drawls. “Enlighten me.”

 

“Because of Supergirl.” Lena proclaims it like a victory, and it is. What better, what more ironic? Lillian’s own daughter, finding salvation in her greatest enemy. She doesn’t remember much Shakespeare, but this feels like poetic justice. “She’s _so_ much more than you’ll ever know. She believes in me. She” — Lena laughs, and it’s derisive and triumphant — “she actually _cares_ about people. Cares about _me._ ”

 

“You sound so sure,” Lillian says.

 

“Because I _am_ ,” Lena retorts. “You wouldn’t know, because you’ve never loved anybody except Lex, and he was _fucked up._ He was a fucked up person, _mother,_ because you taught him how to use his brilliance for gain and power.” The words come spilling out now, rushing and flowing and bursting the dam that she hadn’t even known was there. “You mourn him, but we lost him a _long_ time ago. We lost the real Lex when you made him reliant on you for praise. When you taught him that the line between right and wrong was _flexible_.” Lillian’s face is stone-like. “You killed the person he was and turned into whatever he is now. And it’s — it’s a _fucking_ good thing that I was always second to him. I don’t want to know what you would have turned me into.”

 

“That’s the thing, Lena,” Lillian says. Lena can feel her anger on the other side of the glass, like something tangible. Something cruel. “I never turned him into anything. It was in his blood. Which,” she reminds, eyes narrowed, “happens to be your blood, too. You can’t escape from it, Lena.”

 

“Okay.” Lena shrugs, unconcerned. “You can continue to believe that.” She turns and heads for the door. “Have fun in jail.”

 

“ _Lena,_ ” Lillian hisses, and — _god —_ she almost turns back around. Because that’s the tone of voice Lillian used to employ when Lena was in trouble, or when she’d proven to be yet another disappointment. That’s the tone of voice that used to rule her life.

 

Lena keeps walking, and doesn’t look back.

 

— — —

 

“How are you?” Kara asks, voice muffled. She’s swathed in a vaguely human-shaped bundle of blankets. “You weren’t hurt, right?”

 

“I’m fine, yeah.” Alex turns so she’s facing Kara fully. “Listen, about you and Lena —”

 

“We’re dating,” Kara blurts, eyes wide.

 

Alex stares at her. Kara stares back, only her eyes visible from her blanket cocoon. “Um. Okay.” Alex shakes her head, laughing. “That’s not where I was — but that’s really great, Kara. I’m happy for you.”

 

Kara feels a little rush of heat to her face. “Thanks,” she mumbles. “What — what about us, then?”

 

Alex’s face twists as she figures out how to say it properly. Apprehension starts to trickle into Kara’s veins. “Do you remember Eric? In college?”

 

Kara burrows further into her blankets. “...Yes.”

 

Eric Powell. The star lacrosse player at National City University, and Kara’s ex-boyfriend. They’d dated for a good two years until he’d fled one day, scared away by Kara’s spontaneous declaration of love in the middle of ordering food at Olive Garden. He’d gone to the bathroom and never come back. “You thought —”

 

“I thought I loved him but I was just hungry,” Kara mutters, scowling. That’s a memory she’d rather not relive. “Yes, I remember. Only the most embarrassing moment of my entire _life_.”

 

“I know,” Alex says, apologetic, “but with Lena, you...uh, have you...thought about it?”

 

“If I’m hungry? _Yes_. I’m starving.”

 

Alex rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

 

Kara makes a displeased noise. “My feelings for her are very real. I feel them even when I’m full. Happy?” She’s not quite sure what Alex is trying to get at here.

 

“That’s not…” Alex sighs, face-palming. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do that right. Are you in love with her?”

 

Kara blinks. Oh. Is that — is that why Alex brought up Eric? “I am,” she says, measuredly. “For sure, this time.”

 

Alex releases a breath. “Okay. Because I just didn’t want you to get hurt, and I know you question your feelings a lot, so I thought….you might want to talk about it?” She lifts her shoulders in a shrug, expression hesitant.

 

Kara opens her arms and Alex embraces her, a tint of relief in her eyes. “Do you know how I figured it out?” Kara mumbles, enveloping Alex into her blanket pile.

 

“How?”

 

“Well, I talked to this guy, and he helped give me _words_ for it, but I was thinking about it later, and...it feels a lot like when I’m with you. I know what it feels like to love you.” Kara pulls back, smiles bright and fond at her sister. “I love Lena. I’m sure of it, as sure as I am of loving you.”

 

“Dork,” Alex mutters, and hugs Kara again. Kara doesn’t need her super senses to know that Alex is a little teary right now. “I love you, too.”

 

A knock at the door. “Heyyy,” Winn exclaims. “Group hug!”

 

Alex starts backing out, shaking her head. “Oh, no, not for me —”

 

“Too late!”

 

Alex groans as Winn squeezes them both. “Oh my god, never mind, I hate you all.”

 

James crushes all three in a bear hug, grinning. “I’m taking advantage of Alex being trapped to do this,” he says. “Don’t let her get me, Kara.”

 

Kara smiles, then winces. “Ooh. Um, I — I think I have a bruised rib? Could you guys —” Everybody springs apart in a mess, apologies flying around the room. “I’m fine, it’s okay,” she reassures, chuckling. “I’m just not used to being hurt for so long. I totally forgot I was.”

 

Lena pops her head in the doorway. “Hey, I just ordered takeout. Anybody hun —”

 

“Dibs on the orange chicken!” Winn scrambles for the door, James close on his tail.

 

“Oh, no you don’t, you got it last time —”

 

“Hey, it’s called _sharing,_ ” Alex calls, speed walking after them. “Don’t touch the pad thai, though —”

 

Kara grins at Lena. “Did you do that on purpose?”

 

Lena slips inside, faux innocent look on her face. “What? Lure everybody out so I could be alone with you? Not at all.”

 

Kara chuckles and forgets to breathe for a moment when Lena moves in, grabbing her blanket cape and tugging her closer. “Hey,” she murmurs.

 

“Hey.” Lena’s eyebrow arches up, expression mischievous. “The legal team talked to me. There’s no way Lillian’s going to get out of what she’s done. And J’onn said he was personally going to oversee her transfer and guard patrols, so she won’t have a chance to escape.”

 

Kara loops her arms around Lena’s waist. “That’s good to hear,” she murmurs, a little distracted. She’s never noticed how alluring Lena’s eyes are. She could stare at them for...too long, probably. But they’re all shades of jade and emerald and sometimes the lightest blue if they’re in the right light, and… “Dang.” Kara inhales, lungs burning slightly at the lack of oxygen. She grins like a fool. “Sorry. I got distracted by your eyes.”

 

Lena laughs, sounding similarly breathless. “Don’t apologize. I do that all the time.”

 

Kara smirks. “You get lost in your own eyes?”

 

Lena gives her a look, unamused. “Don’t sass me, Danvers.” Her eyes light up and Kara’s suddenly sure that she’s about to hear either the best or worst idea ever. “Okay, I know you’re still healing, but have you thought about what we could do now that you don’t have your powers?”

 

Kara pauses. What could they do now that she doesn’t have her powers….? “Oh! We could go bowling now! I usually don’t go because it’s _way_ too loud in there. Or to a concert!” She looks at Lena, who’s smiling in that fond, amused way that she gets when Kara starts rambling. “...Or not?”

 

Lena leans in, breath tickling Kara’s ear. “I can touch you now,” she whispers, and Kara _understands._

 

“ _O-oh_.”

 

Another knock on the door. Winn looks vaguely disturbed. “J’onn says that he’s eating and would rather you two take it somewhere else.”

 

Lena shoots Kara a smoldering look that is definitely not _taking it somewhere else._ “After we eat, then.”

 

Kara tries not to imagine what that entails and follows her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming up on the end! I think there'll be one more chapter after this. 
> 
> Let me know your feelings! I've never really written Lillian before, so I'm curious as to what you guys think.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took forever and a day, no thanks to the cast at SDCC (except for Katie, of course). But here it is, after an all-nighter and five million drafts. I'm posting this a minute before I have to leave for work bc I'm so excited to share it with you guys so editing is..minimal at best. let me know if there are errors. Enjoy!

_There’s nothing like near death experiences to make you really appreciate life_ , Kara decides, after inhaling several plates of Chinese takeout and then promptly dozing off on Lena’s shoulder. She’s half-awake now, listening to the drone of her friends talking in the background as Lena strokes her hair. She’s warm and full and content and it’s hard to recall the last time she’d been so _happy._

 

“You all right?” Lena asks, smiling down at her. Kara can feel her heartbeat, the pump of her pulse in the crook of her wrist. “Do you want to go lie down? The doctor wants you under the sunbed as much as possible.”

 

Kara makes an unintelligible noise, squirming closer. “I’m comfy here.” There’s a fascinating side effect of not having her powers — she can focus now, actually, _genuinely,_ focus on one thing. Which is good, absolutely great, when it’s Lena. She doesn’t have to listen for trouble across the city. Doesn’t have to tune out strange smells or sounds. She can just look at Lena, touch her, and the world falls away.

 

“Well,” Lena sighs, reluctance stretching the sound, “I have to go to work soon, but if you want, we can cuddle on the sunbed —”

 

“Let’s go,” Kara mumbles, sitting upright.

 

Lena laughs and Kara wants to drown in the sound. “All right, slow down. Alex, I’m going to take her back, okay?” Kara hears a few affirmative responses but doesn’t really pay attention. And maybe she’s just really tired, or still loopy from medication, but Lena looks so pretty that Kara kinda wants to cry. “All right, let’s go.”

 

Kara leans against Lena’s side as they make their way back to the basking room, gait unsteady. “I really like you,” Kara mumbles, hoping that she can convey this aching affection in her chest properly. She props her chin up on Lena’s shoulder, gazing at her. “Like, _really_ like you. Did you know that?”

 

“I do,” Lena says, lips quirking up at the corners. “Did you know that I _really_ like you, too?”

 

Kara giggles, clutching at Lena. “That’s so awesome.” She collapses on the bed when they reach it, which is a bad idea for bruised ribs. “Ow,” she grunts, cringing. “I’m never going to get used to this being hurt thing.”

 

Lena huffs and checks her over, tugging her blanket over her body. “Just be careful, please, Kara. I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

 

Kara pouts. Lena looks...soft, _vulnerable,_ wearing a t-shirt and jeans — not in a bad way, but in a way that Kara wants to keep for herself, like a secret. A vulnerability that nobody else gets to see. “When do you have to go to work?” she asks. “Can you call in sick or something?”

 

“Lovesickness is not classified as a real illness,” Lena tells her, wry. “Unfortunately.”

 

Kara beams. “Aww. You’re in love?”

 

Lena smiles, affection shining sweet and fond in the look. “I am.” She leans in, presses a soft, gentle kiss to Kara’s lips. “Very much so.”

 

The information feels like a surprise every time. Kara follows Lena’s mouth, pouting when she pulls away. “When do you have to go?” Kara asks, reluctant to hear the answer.

 

“In a few minutes.”

 

Kara scoots over, patting the space next to her. “Lie with me?” They barely fit on the sunbed, shoulder to shoulder, so Kara turns, arm resting across Lena’s body. “You’re the little spoon,” she mumbles, pressing closer.

 

“I am not,” Lena protests, eyebrow arching. She turns so they’re facing each other, lying on their sides. “You’re the little spoon.”

 

“Why?” Kara asks. “I’m taller than you. I’m obviously the big spoon. If anything, you’re the jetpack.”

 

“Sorry, the _what?”_

 

Kara gives her a grin. “The jetpack. It’s called jetpacking when the smaller person is behind the bigger person. ‘Cuz you’re like, a jetpack?”

 

Lena muffles a laugh with her hand. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“That’s just because you’re the jetpack,” Kara says, knowingly. “Nobody likes to be called the jetpack.”

 

Lena rolls her eyes, smiling. A thought occurs to her. “Okay, wait a minute. Have you ever tried to stack spoons? It only works if they’re the same size. If the spoons are different sizes, it doesn’t work!” Her eyes are bright with victory. “It’s equality. We’re the same spoon.”

 

Kara’s response is cut off. “Kara!”

 

They both glance over. Kara’s heart drops. “Mon-el,” she greets, propping herself up on an elbow. “What’s up?” Lena’s back is to him, and Kara has to contain a laugh at the sight of her displeased expression.

 

“Hey, I just wanted to check in with you. Make sure you were okay.” He gives her a grin and Kara smiles back, hesitant.

 

“Oh, yeah, I’m pretty much...all good now, really. Just need some time to heal.” Kara shivers; Lena’s hand is tracing circles on her hip, where her shirt’s ridden up. It feels different — dull, in comparison to how it usually is, but….good. Nice.

 

Mon-el rubs the back of his head. “That’s...that’s good to hear, I’m glad.” A beat of awkward silence. “I was wondering if we could start over?” he blurts. “I’m sorry that I kissed you without asking. I guess that was, uh, rude of me.”

 

Kara sees Lena’s incredulous, wide-eyed expression in her peripheral vision and has to stifle a giggle. She shouldn’t be laughing, this is a serious matter. “A little more than rude, yeah,” she says. “I don’t know what you do on Daxam, but here you ask a girl before you kiss them. Consent is important.”

 

He squints at that but doesn’t comment further on it. “Would you go on a date with me, then? Put that all behind us?”

 

Lena stills. Kara blinks. “What?”

 

“A date,” he repeats, looking hopeful. “Tonight?”

 

Lena recovers before Kara does. She sits up, facing him. “I’m afraid she’s going to have to decline,” she tells him. “We have plans tonight.” Oh. Well, that’s news to Kara.

 

Mon-el gives Lena a strange look and looks back at Kara. “What about tomorrow? Sometime this weekend?”

 

Kara exchanges a look with Lena. She can’t believe this is really happening right now. “Mon-el,” she says, “I’m not going to go on a date with you.” He opens his mouth to protest. Oh, boy. “I’m dating Lena.”

 

Mon-el shuts his mouth with an audible snap, head cocked to the side and eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

 

“We’re dating,” Kara repeats slowly. “She’s my girlfriend.”

 

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting — anger, disbelief — but it’s definitely not _laughter_ . “No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “That’s not possible.” He looks at Lena, and then at Kara. “You’re both _women.”_

 

Oh. Oh, _Rao._ “So?” Lena asks, voice sharp. “She said no. There’s no need to explain that.” Kara wants to say something, step in, perhaps, but shock added to drowsiness is slowing her tongue.

 

“I don’t understand,” Mon-el mutters, eyebrows furrowed. “How are you two _dating_? Why?”

 

“Because we like each other.” Kara finally gets her mouth in motion. “Mon-el, I said no. Do you need anything else?” She’s hoping for an easy resolution. As per usual, it doesn’t come.

 

“Yeah,” he says, frowning, “I need answers. Why would you like her? I don’t get it.” He opens his mouth, stammers, closes it again. “I just don’t get it.”

 

Kara’s tired and she just wants to cuddle with Lena until she has to go to work. “Do you want me to list out all the reasons?” she asks. Lena must hear the dangerous impatience in her voice, because she glances back, eyes slightly wide. Kara doesn’t wait for Mon-el’s response. “I love Lena because she cares about me. She’s considerate, kind, and _incredibly_ strong. She’s always willing to do the right thing, no matter what it takes. And she completely accepts who I am and what I do.” As soon as those words leave her mouth, Kara’s unsure. They haven’t actually...talked about that yet. _Is_ Lena okay with who she is and what she does?

 

Lena catches her eye and gives her a tiny, firm nod.

 

Kara exhales. “I could go on. Do you want me to explain further?”

 

Mon-el’s expression is tight, displeased. Kara _almost_ feels bad for him. “No, that’s fine. Whatever.” He leaves, carrying an aura of rejection and simmering disbelief as he goes.

 

“Well, that didn’t go terribly,” Lena sighs, when he’s gone.

 

“About what I said…” Kara hesitates. “I know we haven’t really talked about it. About me being a superhero, and being in danger all the time.”

 

Lena releases a small breath. “Oh. Kara, you have an alter ego for a reason, right?” Kara nods, unsure where this is headed. “Kara Danvers isn’t just a disguise. It’s a part of you. It’s the same with Supergirl. It’s not just a job. It’s who you are.”

 

Kara’s surprised by the relief that washes over her. “Oh. That’s — that’s really reassuring, actually,” she laughs. “Not that I was worried about it, but it’s still nice to hear, you know —”

 

Lena leans in and kisses her cheek. Kara stops talking. “I support you,” Lena murmurs, a small smile on her lips. “Even if you put your life on the line to save people. In fact, that’s one of the things I love about you.”

 

Kara grins goofily. “Ooo, can you do a list, too? Of what you love about me? I love hearing about myself.” She winks and Lena rolls her eyes, chuckling.

 

“Sure. How about I tell you tonight, when I take you out for dinner and bowling?”

 

Kara stops, giving Lena a curious look. “Are you….asking me on a _date_ , Lena Luthor?”

 

Lena gives her a smirk. “I am.” She swings her legs off the bed, getting to her feet. “I’ll pick you up. Six-thirty?”

 

How’d Kara get so lucky? “Of course,” she says, smiling dopily. “Yeah. Six-thirty works.”

 

“Awesome.” Lena beams. Her gaze slips down, eyes going dark. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and Kara knows what she’s going to ask. “May I kiss you?”

 

Her voice has somehow gone husky and a few steps lower and Kara gets the shivers just hearing it, hearing not just the words but the _meaning._ The _want._ “Yes,” she mumbles, and it feels like there are words lodged in her chest. “Please.”

 

Lena smirks and Kara wonders if she’s dying, why her chest feels so weird and her head’s swimming, and then Lena murmurs, “Don’t forget to _breathe,_ darling,” and oh. Breathing. Air. Right. Kara sucks in air and Lena grins at her, lopsided and oh-so-fond. “I’m going to kiss you now,” she reminds, and now there’s a teasing lilt to her voice. “Want to take a breath?”

 

“Oh, shush,” Kara mutters, feeling her face warm. “Just kiss me.”

 

Lena does. It’s supposed to be a gentle, romantic goodbye kiss, very much domestic. And that’s how it starts, but then Kara leans into it, asks for more and it’s not like Lena’s going to deny her. The first brush of tongue is something heavenly. It’s something narcotic, and suddenly Kara’s addicted, desperate for more. Kissing Lena like this, without her powers, is an _experience._ Instead of getting caught up in crisp detail, it’s a wash of sensation, a complete immersion in texture and taste and sound and touch. Kissing Lena with her powers is like eating the individual parts of a dish, enjoying each unique taste and texture. Kissing Lena like this is eating the whole dish, savoring the complex blend of flavor and sensation, and it’s enough to forget herself in.

 

“I have to go,” Lena mumbles, breathing hard, when they finally break apart. Kara breathes in and relishes the strange burn in her lungs, like fire. “I’ll see you tonight?”

 

Kara darts in for one more quick kiss. “Tonight.”

 

— — —

 

The first thing Lena does when she walks into her office is to send notice of job termination letters. Lillian has several big positions under her thumb in L Corp, and now that she’s out of the picture, Lena can finally retake control. It’s a savage pleasure to hit send on each one.

 

Jess walks in with a wide-eyed expression a few minutes later, shutting the office door behind her. “What in the world did you do?” she asks, looking appalled. “I have the co-chair of Communications and Human Resources saying you fired him without notice and the finance director threatening to sue you. What happened?”

 

“I’m cleaning house,” Lena says, unruffled. “My mother is headed to prison. I refuse to let her cronies continue to dictate things in my company.”

 

Jess still looks a tad skeptical. “You’re sure? The financial director is on his way here. He says that the board will —”

 

“The board will see how serious I am,” Lena says, tone leaving no space for argument, “once I talk to the ones being bribed by my mother. Things are going to chang—”

 

The door bursts open and Brandon Seaver, now ex-financial director for L Corp, comes storming in, face red and tie flying. “You _bitch,_ ” he snarls. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You’ve got no right, firing me without notice —”

 

“I’m afraid you’re wrong on all accounts, Mr. Seaver,” Lena says, and her calm demeanor only enrages him further. “I do have the power to fire you. And this is your notice. You even get a very nice severance package, if I do say so myself.” She pauses, watching his face grow redder. “Unless you don’t want it?”

 

“You can’t do this,” he repeats, but less emphatic this time. “You _can’t._ ”

 

Jess looks unimpressed. “Ms. Luthor, would you like me to escort Mr. Seaver out?”

 

Lena looks at the financial director. “If he has nothing else to say to get me to change my mind besides calling me a bitch.” He splutters, wordless with rage. Lena looks away, dismissive. “Very well. If you would, Jess.”

 

She can practically feel the force of his glare directed at her. “My lawyer will be having a word with the legal team!” he shouts as Jess escorts him out. “You’re _fucked!”_  The door shuts behind him and Lena sighs, unperturbed. That would almost be a threat if she wasn’t hiring a new head of legal as well.

 

“Right,” she mutters to herself. “Who’s next?”

 

It turns out to be Jackson Smith, one slimeball of a board member. He walks in with a gait that would be stately if he had a cane and a British accent, with white hair and a pristine suit that belies how much of a scumbag he is. Lena’s had a consistent hatred of him ever since he tried to grope her at the first board meeting, not realizing she was the new CEO, not some pretty assistant. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” he rumbles, hands on Lena’s desk in a stance that’s supposed to be intimidating. “It’s foolish, thinking you can get away with something like this.”

 

Lena meets his gaze coolly. “Why? Nobody’s going to stop me from hiring more qualified employees. And there will certainly be no complaints when I run an internal investigation into corruption.”

 

His eyes widen fractionally, and Lena knows she’s going to win this battle. “The board will crucify you if you continue to act this impulsively,” he says, as if advising her. “You don’t know what you’re doing —”

 

Lena arches an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?” He stills. Lena almost smiles for a second, almost breaks the spell. What her mother taught her was how to manipulate, how to threaten with subtlety, to intimidate. And now she’s going to use all of her skills to finally destroy Lillian’s grip on her life.

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he repeats, less confident.

 

Lena hums, contemplative. “Hmm. Is that what you said when Lex started making impulsive decisions?” He stands straight, crossing his arms. “Or when he started behaving irrationally, or acting paranoid?” Jackson doesn’t say a thing. Lena smiles at him. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“You’re not Lex,” he manages. “You’re nothing like him.”

 

Lena’s bored of this. “Did my mother write that script? Or are you just sexist?” The answer’s yes to both, probably, but she doesn’t give him a chance to deny that. “I’m not Lex. I am, however, a Luthor.” She smiles, too wide, and he leans away, a twinge of fear crossing his face. “I will run this company the way I want to, and my mother will never get a say in my life again. Understand?”

 

“You’re weak,” he spits, grasping for straws. “You won’t survive without your mother’s support. Your brother was cutthroat, but you’re —” He laughs. “You’re too soft. Too kind. You’ll never make it.”

 

Lena peers at him, amused. “Since when is being kind a weakness?” She pauses, idea sprouting in her mind. “How about this?” She leans forward. “I’ll be kind. I’ll let you remain on the board as we conduct the corruption investigation.” She can see the realization of impending doom shudder through him as he goes still, muscles tensing. “Unless, of course, you’d like to hand in your resignation now.”

 

There’s no way he’s going to be able to slip out from a corruption investigation unscathed. Not with Lena on the warpath. “That’s very generous of you,” he mutters, face ashen. He opens his mouth to say more, and then thinks better of it. The door swings shut behind him.

 

His letter of resignation arrives on her desk after lunch.

 

— — —

 

“So, how was your day?” Kara asks, sliding into the seat next to Lena. She’s wearing casual clothes — a National City track team t-shirt and jeans — and Lena can’t believe it’s legal to still look so attractive. “I heard there was a shake-up at L Corp today.”

 

Lena leans in for a quick kiss, which Kara gives more than willingly. “A little more than a shake-up, I think. I fired about twenty people today.” Lena nods to the driver and they set off. “They were all people on my mother’s payroll, keeping an eye on me and letting her control parts of my company. People were…displeased.” She chuckles. “To say the least.”

 

Kara hums, tangling their fingers together. “I’m proud of you.”

 

It’s a casual phrase. Tossed out, very simply, without much weight or gravitas to it, but it hits Lena like a meteor. “Oh,” she breathes, trying to gather herself before she does something stupid, like cry. “Thanks.”

 

“You okay?” Kara asks, and Lena can tell she’s got that concerned crinkle between her brows without even looking. “Lena?”

 

“Yeah,” she says, still looking out the window, getting a grip on those suddenly rampant emotions. “I’m fine. It’s just...my mother never said that. That she was proud of me.” She gives Kara a tired smile. “I keep telling myself she’s not going to be in my life anymore, but then the smallest things just go and set me off.” She shakes her head. “Sorry. What about you? Anything happen today?”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Kara murmurs, rubbing her thumb over Lena’s knuckles. “She’s your _mother,_ Lena. It’s okay to be affected by her.”

 

“I don’t want to, thought,” Lena mutters, almost petulant. “I just want to forget about her.”

 

“I know it sucks,” Kara sighs, “but you can’t. She influenced your life. If you try to pretend that didn’t happen, you won’t be able to move on. Moving on is accepting what happened and being your own person despite it.” She gives Lena a lopsided smile. “Trust me.”

 

Lena groans. “I know you’re right,” she mumbles. “That doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

 

“It’s okay,” Kara reassures. “I’ll be right here, every step of the way.”

 

 _How’d I get so damn lucky?_ Lena wonders, forcing tears away and steadying her voice. “I love you,” she murmurs, gazing into sky-rich eyes. “So much.”

 

“I love you, too,” Kara replies, corners of her mouth quirking up. Amusement twinkles in her eyes and her tone turns light even as a shiver of heat warms Lena’s gaze. “Now, are you going to tell me why you said to dress casual while you’re wearing like, Gucci or something?” She gestures to Lena’s work clothes; she’s wearing a low-cut sapphire blouse and black pencil skirt. Definitely not casual.

 

Lena laughs and it breaks the spell, brushes aside the little threads of tension starting to spin between them. “It’s not Gucci,” she says. “I haven’t had the chance to change yet. We’re going to drop by my apartment on the way there. It’s a very casual establishment.”

 

“You just called it an establishment,” Kara notes. “That’s fancy.”

 

“It’s a bar,” Lena says, fondly exasperated. “Shorty’s. There’s a bowling alley right next door.”

 

Kara peers at her curiously. “A bar? You sound familiar with it.” Damn, is she that transparent?

 

“I, uh, used to go there when I was in town visiting Lex,” Lena explains. “I’ve been there a few times.”

 

Kara wiggles her eyebrows. “Ooo, Lena Luthor’s secret bar haunt. What’s it like? Do you still go there often?”

 

“Not really. I haven’t had the chance, with everything.” She shrugs, glancing quickly at Kara to gauge her reaction. “It is one of my...safe spaces, I guess you could call it. I wanted to show you.” She lightens her tone. “Plus, there’s a bowling alley right next door, so.”

 

Kara closes her eyes, sighing. “Okay,” she says, after a moment. Lena’s caught in a moment of brief concern, and then: “This is honestly, like, so _gay.”_

 

Lena can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes her mouth. “What?” she asks, chuckling. “What do you mean?”

 

Kara’s expression is open with sincerity. “It’s _gay!_ Like, sappy and so romantic and everything and I — I can’t even believe you. You’re so good at this.”

 

Lena releases a little sigh. “That’s actually incredibly reassuring to hear,” she says. “I really...I’m trying my best. I haven’t dated anybody in a while, and — especially not somebody like you. I don’t think I’ve ever said I love you and meant it so much.” She gives Kara a wry smile. “I just _really_ don’t want to mess this up. It’s one of the — it _is_ the best thing in my life right now.”   


Kara shakes her head, grinning. “See, look? You’re just going and saying these things and I can’t even catch up.” She squeezes Lena’s hand. “You’re doing fine, Lena. It’s not like I’m a relationship guru, either. I used to be pretty terrible at finding good people to date. Meeting you was one of the best things to ever happen to me.” She winks. “The best thing that did happen to me was deciding to kiss you. Even though we were... _stupid,_ I guess, afterwards.” She laughs, eyes sparkling. Lena really, really wants to kiss her again. “It all worked out. I can’t say that I regret it.”

 

Lena darts in and steals a kiss. “Good,” she says, grinning at the dazed look on Kara’s face. “Because you’re stuck with me now.” The car pulls to a stop outside Lena’s apartment building.

 

Kara kisses her back and then nudges her towards the door, smiling. “Go change,” she says, with a teasing smirk. “I’m starving.”

 

Lena laughs and smiles all the way up to her apartment.

 

The outside of the bar appears in a classic saloon style, with big windows and swinging doors. The inside is similarly decorated: all varnished wood and soft leather, warm light glinting off brass fixtures. The smell of good greasy food and bitter alcohol hangs in the air like smoke. It’s rather quiet for a Friday evening; several couples seated for dinner, a few regulars hanging by the bar and clumps of people around the pool tables. The jukebox pumps out a few classic strains of soft rock that weave in and out between the flow of conversations in the room.

 

They slide into a booth, feet jumbling beneath the table and both trying not to give in to the magnetic desire to kiss each other. Their server greets Lena by name and Kara nudges her with a teasing look. “You must have made quite an impression,” she says, grinning, when they’ve placed their orders. “She still remembers your name.”

 

“Ah, well,” Lena says, at a loss. “I did come here quite often.” Kara raises an eyebrow. “Sometimes for whole days on end,” Lena admits reluctantly. “Shorty’s has a good ambience for working on papers. Despite the occasional bar fight.”  


“You, Lena Luthor,” Kara declares, “have so much more to you than you let show. Have you ever _been_ in a bar fight?”

 

Lena recalls her college days and makes a face. “...Yes?”

 

“Why does that sound like a question? You’re either in a fight or you’re not,” Kara laughs. “Tell me more. I want to hear about you in a fight.” Her eyes are alight with fiery curiosity and Lena chuckles.

 

“I think you’re far too interested about hearing about me,” she says, and deflects with ease. “Don’t you want to hear about my list of things I love about you?”

 

Kara bounces in her seat, beaming. “Yes! I came up with some more, too. For you.”

 

“Let’s see…” Lena pulls out her phone and opens her notes. Kara leans forward, resting her chin on her fist. Her eyes are bright, attentive. Lena desperately wants to kiss her, but settles for clearing her throat.

 

“Reasons I Love Kara Danvers:

 

#1 You were once late for lunch. I was honestly...a little pissed about it, and you were the best about it — you paid for it, you walked me back and sent me so many apologies and pictures of sad puppies — and then I found out later, when I was reading the news, that Supergirl had spent the day protecting women from protests at Planned Parenthood.”

 

Kara laughs, a little breathless, at the memory. “I can’t believe you remember that,” she murmurs, frowning. “I felt so terrible about being late.”

 

Lena reaches across the table and grabs her hand. There’s something about touch, something grounding about the solidity of Kara’s presence. Sometimes, it’s still hard for Lena to believe she’s real. “It’s your kindness,” she says, feeling the hard jut of Kara’s knuckles and the soft pads of her fingers. The juxtaposition of unyielding and tender, girl of steel and sunshine, gets her every time.

 

“#2 The way you push up your glasses all the time. So much that you do it when you’re Supergirl and then you have to pretend like you’re messing with your hair.” Kara sighs, smiling that smile that means she knows she’s been caught, and Lena grins.

 

“#3 Your pastel outfits. You’re just….” Lena sighs, and her heart pulses in time with the aching fondness melting her ribcage. “You’re so adorable. And that’s not enough to describe it, but…” She shakes her head, distracted. “Stop looking at me like that.”

 

Kara blinks, eyes wide and innocent. “Like what?”

 

 _Like you want to eat me alive, and like you’re the happiest you’ve ever been._ “Like that,” Lena mutters, waving her hand in some abstract motion. Kara furrows her brows. “Never mind.” She scrolls down on her phone.

 

“#4 The way you kiss me. Sometimes it’s like I’m fragile (I guess I am, in your hands). Sometimes it’s like you can’t get enough, and then sometimes it’s like we have all the time in the world but you’d still rather spend it all kissing me.” Lena takes a breath. Even thinking about it, thinking about the way Kara’s lips move against hers, the tickling heat in her core, the soundless gasps slipping from her mouth….

 

She shivers and catches Kara’s eyes. She looks similarly distracted, gaze glassy and bottom lip pinned between her teeth. “I wish I could kiss you now,” she mutters, and Lena’s smile is shaky with self-control.

 

“I share that sentiment,” she agrees. But the bar is well-lit, the people unknown, and her face is recognizable. “The bowling alley is dark,” she suggests. Kara grins, lopsided, giving Lena finger guns.

 

“Great minds think alike.”

 

“Great minds do not do finger guns,” Lena deadpans, and Kara’s face falls for a moment before she’s smirking.

 

“Great minds don’t get flustered when they see my abs,” she shoots back, and now Lena’s thinking about Kara’s perfect, Michelangelo-sculpted abs and wow is it warm in here? “You’re such a nerd,” Kara teases. “You secretly love my finger guns.”

 

“#5 Your finger guns,” Lena says, and Kara ducks her head, lips curving up against her will. “#6 Your smile. All of your smiles — the bashful ones when you’re embarrassed, the confident ones, your smirks — even the ones when you’re messing with me.”

 

Kara doesn’t get the chance to respond to that before the food arrives and her attention is diverted. Lena doesn’t mind. They’ll have a lot more time together than just a dinner to get to all the reasons she’s in love.

 

— — —

 

“I’ll have you know I am a _professional_ Wii Sports bowler,” Kara declares, as they emerge from the bar and make their way, arm in arm, down the sidewalk. “I’ve completed all of the challenges and even the stuff on Wii Sports Resort.”

 

“I’ll have you know that you spent way too much time on the Wii as a kid,” Lena responds, nudging her shoulder with a smile. “Meanwhile, I could totally destroy you in Mario Kart. Or Portal.”

 

“Wow,” Kara mumbles, pulling the door open for Lena, “you _are_ a nerd.”

 

“Say that again, Ms. Professional Wii Sports bowler.”

 

“Hey, I got a medal for it!” Kara’s going to continue that line of thought until she steps through the door and into a bowling alley for the first time in ten years.

 

Comet Bowling, thoughtfully named for the space theme, looks like something out of a little kids’ dream. The walkway into the alley is paved with star-studded, glow-in-the-dark carpet, and an exposed brick wall is adorned with neon signs declaring COMET ALLEY in electric blue and fluorescent pink points them towards the welcome desk. Racks of glowing green shoes wait expectantly under UV purple light, like clusters of alien eggs. The sound of pins clattering and crashing, diegetic from where they’re standing, lends a cinematic nostalgia to the entire scene. It smells like squeaking shoes and bowling ball plastic, cheap junk food and metal arcade coins.

 

“This is _amazing,”_ Kara breathes, and it is. It’s spectacular. More than she could have ever imagined or wished for. “This place is _perfect.”_

 

Lena smiles, features fuzzy in the dim light, and Kara realizes she’s nervous. “I’m glad,” she says. “I thought you’d like it.”

 

“I _love_ it.” Kara spins in a slow circle, taking in even more detail: the glowing stars on the ceiling that make real constellations, the spaceship-shaped racks of bowling balls, the space-themed menu. “Lena, this is amazing. Like, everything’s just — so _cool_. Look at that! And the stars! They’re actually constellations. This is the _best.”_

 

“C’mon.” Lena tugs her towards the desk, beaming. “Don’t you want to show off your professional bowling skills?”

 

Kara barely stops herself from actually jumping up and down. “Oh, _yes.”_

 

They set up shop in lane nine, as Kara bounces in her stiff bowling shoes and gleefully types in their names on the console.

 

“Why is my name ‘Captain Luthor’?” Lena wonders, looking up at the screen. “And why are you ‘An Actual Alien’?” She finishes tying her shoes, mumbling, “I can’t believe there are enough spaces for that.”

 

Kara peers up at the screen. “Is that too obvious? I thought it was funny.” She hits the backspace. “You’re the captain of our ship. Plus, it sounds cool,” she adds, with an air of wisdom.

 

“How about ‘Space Pants’?” Lena suggests.

 

Kara frowns. She’s missing something. “Space pants? What?”

 

Lena smirks, delighted with herself. “Because your ass is out of this world, obviously.”

 

Kara groans, facepalming. “You’re officially the worst.”

 

“Okay,” Lena laughs, “how about ‘Professional Wii Bowler’?”

 

“Oh my god,” Kara sighs, “you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” She’s glad she’s turned away, because the goofy smile on her face is probably bright enough to be seen even in the low light.

 

“And we haven’t even started playing yet,” Lena reminds, a smile in the words.

 

An idea occurs to Kara and she types it in, grinning. She spins around, excited. “Okay! Let’s go!”

 

Lena looks up at the screen. “All Star?” she asks, unamused. “Really?”

 

Kara laughs, darting away to the racks of bowling balls. “C’mon, Lena! Getcha game on!”

 

It becomes evident that neither of them, put simply, know shit about bowling.

 

Kara’s first ball goes straight into the gutter (“okay, well, this is heavier than I thought”) and the second clips a single pin. Lena fares a little better, but then Kara manages to eke out a few pins and then Lena somehow drops straight into the gutter on the next turn.

 

If she’s being honest, though, Kara’s not really paying attention to the ball or the game when she steps up. Lena’s dressed in comfy jeans and a scoop-necked t-shirt that’s getting more distracting by the second, and Kara’s becoming increasingly interested in utilizing the lack of lighting to her benefit. So when Lena somehow scores a spare (“that’s just unfair, you’re good at everything!”), Kara pats her lap expectantly.

 

“You deserve a reward,” she says, and wow when did her voice get so husky? She can see neon glinting in the darkness of Lena’s eyes, distracting enough so that she doesn’t realize Lena’s taken her up on the invitation until she’s suddenly got a lap full of Luthor. “Fuck,” she squeaks, voice shooting to the other end of the spectrum, and Lena giggles.

 

“Don’t ask for it if you’re not ready,” she murmurs, and leans in, turning the distance between them tantalizing. “Now, what were you saying about a reward?”

 

Kara doesn’t bother with figuring out how to get her tongue and mouth and brain to work together to make words. The distance vanishes and Lena tastes like the cheap beer they’d had at dinner earlier and wow, is she drunk on alcohol or the feeling of Lena’s lips? “I love you,” Kara sighs against Lena’s mouth, hands resting on her hips. Kissing her girlfriend in the neon haze of a bowling alley, amidst the clatter of pins and slippery wooden floors? One of the best moments of her life.

 

Lena kisses her back, and it slides, inevitably, into the realm of “inappropriate for public places but who cares?” making out that’s interrupted by the beep of the console. “ARE YOU STILL PLAYING?” asks the popup on the screen.

 

“Yes,” Lena says, out of breath. Her palm smoothes across Kara’s jaw and she nudges her glasses up. She smirks, slides off of Kara’s lap and hefts her bowling ball with a wink. “I want to see what kind of reward I get for a strike.”

 

— — —

 

“I’m not even mad,” Kara murmurs. She’s behind Lena, arms wrapped around her, nosing at a spot behind her ear. “I suppose you get the title of professional Wii bowler now.”

 

Lena laughs breathily and downs the rest of the wine. “What was the score again?”

 

They’re in Kara’s apartment, having a late night snack of wine and more wine. The city is still, static navy midnight lit only by the occasional passing car. “115 to 89,” Kara mumbles, sounding a bit put-out. “And then 130 to 100.”

 

“You were very close the second time,” Lena consoles. “Another round and you would’ve beaten me.” She spins the barstool so she’s facing Kara, and raises an eyebrow. “Do you know how many strikes I got?”

 

Kara gives her an amused look. “I assume you’re about to tell me?”

 

“Three,” Lena declares. She’s halfway to tipsy, stuck in the zone of giggly and sort of touchy. Kara’s...tipsy? “How drunk are you?” she asks. “On a scale of one to ten. One being sober, ten being blackout drunk.”

 

Kara shrugs, thinking. “Like, tipsy and a half. Two and a half, I mean. Why?”

 

“I want to touch you,” Lena says, “because this is like, a once in a never opportunity and I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.” She reaches out and tugs Kara closer by her belt loops. “Is that okay with you?” Kara nods, swallowing, and lets Lena takes her glasses off. She swipes the pad of her thumb over the little scar by Kara’s eyebrow. “I need verbal confirmation,” Lena reminds gently.

 

Kara exhales. “Yes. That is definitely okay with me.”

 

“Awesome,” Lena breathes, wrapping her arms around Kara’s waist. “Let’s go to bed, shall we?”

 

“Are you going to lift me —” Kara starts out laughing but it quickly turns into an exclamation of surprise when Lena _does_ lift her up. Kara wraps her legs around Lena’s waist automatically, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” she says, “have you been working out?”

 

“A little.” Lena ducks her head and presses her mouth to Kara’s neck, the soft flesh of her throat. “Thought I would turn the tables.” Kara makes an unintelligible helpless noise, hands clutching at Lena’s back, twisting into her hair.

 

“Bed,” she mutters, voice throaty. “Now.”

 

— — —

 

The bedsheets are silken, the air warm and intimate against her bare skin. “Okay,” Lena laughs, tumbling onto the bed after Kara, “you’re still really heavy.”

 

“You sure know how to woo a girl,” Kara retorts, grinning. She sits up, expectant. “Now what?”

 

Lena brushes her hair out of her face. She looks beautiful, stunningly vulnerable in this moment — laughing, hair loose, posture relaxed — and Kara’s chest swells at the knowledge that this is a side of Lena that few get to see. “We can make out,” she suggests, “or we can get straight to the touching. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

 

Kara feels a thrill of nervous anticipation at the thought of being touched. “Uh, touching, please.” Lena gives her an ‘are you sure?’ look. “Yes,” Kara says, more emphatic. “I’m nervous about it, though. I don’t want to like, wimp out or anything.”

 

“Oh, Kara, no,” Lena’s eyebrows furrow and she scoots closer, concern flowing off her in waves. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, _really_. It’s something I’d like to try, not something you have to do. If you don’t want to do it, you won’t disappoint me. That’s absolutely okay.”

 

Kara grins, bashful. “I understand, Lena, and I really appreciate it. It’s just that...I’m nervous about it. What if I don’t, like….work right?” She twists her fingers in the hem of her shirt. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I can’t get off, or it turns out that I just can’t _do_ sex?” It’s been a creeping, crawling fear in the back of her mind for a while now, but Lena had been so excited, so _eager_ , and Kara had tucked those worries away for her sake. She exhales, avoiding Lena’s eyes. “I’m just nervous about it.”

 

Lena doesn’t say anything for a moment. Kara can feel doubt and embarrassment start to creep in, and then, gently: “Kara, you should have told me.” Kara’s heart drops at the downturn of Lena’s mouth, the furrow of her brows. Her voice is soft, but emphatic. “There’s nothing wrong with you if this doesn’t work. Sometimes what works for everybody might not work for you. That doesn’t mean you’re broken, or that something’s wrong.” She reaches out and tilts Kara’s head up. Kara meets her eyes reluctantly. “Kara,” she murmurs, “it’s okay. We don’t have to do this.”

 

“No,” Kara mutters. “I _want_ to. I just need to…” She shakes her head, trying to dispel the doubts clinging to her skull like cobwebs. “It’s okay if it doesn’t work,” she repeats, trying to convince herself. “Is it okay if we don’t...go all the way? I want to try, but if it...doesn’t work out, is it okay if we stop?” Lena’s nodding before she even finishes.

 

“Yes,” she reassures, “that’s completely okay, Kara. We’ll go as far as you’re comfortable with. Any time you want me to stop, we can stop.” Her thumb brushes across Kara’s jaw, a comforting touch, and Kara sucks in a shaky breath.

 

“O-okay. What — what now?”

 

Lena pulls her hand away and Kara misses it immediately. “We can do over the clothes,” she suggests, “or, if you’re okay with it, you can take your clothes off. Whatever you feel ready for.”

 

Kara yanks her shirt off before she can lose her nerve, tossing it to the side. “I can do without clothes,” she says, tugging her pants off. “I can,” she insists, when she catches the tail end of Lena’s skeptical expression. “I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” she says, and Lena relents.

 

“Okay. Lie down?” Kara acquiesces, bra and panties following her discarded pants. Lena scoots over until she’s sitting cross-legged by Kara’s side.“Do you remember the last time I touched you?”

 

“How could I forget?” Kara chuckles, and the sound is strangely rough, low and nervous.

 

“I’m going to do the same thing,” Lena tells her, and there’s a strange quirk to her lips — like she’s trying to keep from smiling, forcing her face into a neutral expression. “Just hands first. Red, yellow, and green, okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Kara breathes, and she feels so ticklish already, like the anticipation is a physical presence ghosting across her skin. “Green light, all the way.”

 

“Arms first,” Lena smiles, and Kara laughs at the memory.

 

“Not very sexy,” she jokes, and it’s a good distraction from the first warm press of Lena’s fingers against her wrist, trailing up to the soft crook of her elbow. Kara squints. “Huh.”

 

“How does it feel?” Lena asks, curious. “Tell me everything.”

 

“I don’t know how to describe it.” She shifts on the bed, so she’s touching Lena’s crossed legs. “It’s like — when I have my powers, it’s like sandpaper. It’s little like a...panic attack, when you’re overstimulated and there’s too much going on. But this is kind of dull, in a way. It’s less... _intense_.” Lena stops her hand and Kara cages a whine in her mouth. “Can you — keep going, please?”

 

“Of course.” Lena continues tracing lines down Kara’s shoulder, palm smoothing over the jut of her collarbone. “Tell if me what you want me to do.”

 

Kara considers this. Lena’s hands...this is something she can handle. More than handle. She….kinda wants _more._ “Could you, um…” She gestures at her chest, blushing. “I think I can handle it.”

 

“You’re sure?” Kara nods jerkily. She can see Lena’s pupils expand the slightest. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Those sweet, perfect, soft lips….

 

“Actually,” Kara blurts, “I really want to kiss you.”

 

Lena looks pleasantly surprised, a slight tint to her cheeks. “Oh. Okay.” She tilts her head to the right, just a little, and her eyes flutter shut, mouth parting the slightest. Kara closes the distance, yearning for that familiar push and pull. Lena tastes like wine now, half bitter and half addicting. Kara can still smell a hint of wood varnish and smoke from the bar, like seduction solidified. “Touch me,” Kara whispers, between gentle kisses.

 

“Here?” Lena mumbles, fingers inching down towards her breasts.

 

Kara exhales shakily, Lena’s tongue swiping teasingly across her lip. “Y-yes.” She anchors herself in Lena’s mouth, fingers catching in thick hair, breaths exchanged between them puffs of heat twisting the dial higher. “O- _oh._ ” The pad of Lena’s finger brushes over her nipple and _pleasure,_ sharp and electric, shoots between her legs. She shudders. “Oh, fuck,” Kara breathes, breaking away from the kiss to catch her breath. “Woah.”

 

Lena’s cupping her jaw, she’s not touching Kara anymore. “Are you —”

 

“I’m so okay,” Kara manages, squirming under Lena’s hands. _She wants more._ “That feels — _really_ good.” The laugh that escapes her mouth is breathless, awed. “Can you keep going? Please?”

 

“It’d be my pleasure,” Lena murmurs, eyes hooded.

 

Kara’s expecting it this time and the pleasure is welcome, jolts of bliss settling hot between her legs. She’s just about to relax into it, and then — Lena gently rolls Kara’s nipple between her fingers and holy _fuck —_

 

Kara whines and writhes and gasps, “ _More, Lena, please”_ and _Rao._ It burns, like she’s combusting internally, and she doesn’t know what to do with the impatient energy sizzling under her skin. “Fuck. Lena, can you — can you put your mouth on me? Please?”

 

Irrationally, the first thought that comes to her mind is _I guess arms are sexy after all,_ and then Lena leans down, swipes her tongue across Kara’s nipple, and she’s not thinking much at all.

 

Lena’s mouth is hot, wet, _moist..._ Kara shudders at the feeling, tugs at Lena’s hair, pulls her closer. Rao, no wonder people have sex so much. “This is r-really good,” Kara manages, back arching, trying to get even closer to that sinful mouth. “You’re really good at this.”

 

“Why, thank you,” Lena mumbles, grinning up at her. “I do try my best.”

 

“ _Ah_ ,” Kara says in response, “ _fuck._ Lena, I — hold on, give me a moment.” Lena jerks away immediately, eyes wide with concern, and Kara rushes to reassure her. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I just need a moment. Is this what it feels like? It’s like” — she sits up, hands gesturing helplessly — “a _lot_. It feels like...I’m going to explode, or something. Is that supposed to happen?”

 

“Yes,” Lena says, eyebrows cocked in amusement. “That means I’m doing my job right.” She sits back on her haunches, wiping her mouth. “You feeling good?”

 

“ _Really_ good,” Kara corrects with a smile. “I get it now, kind of. How this can be a stress-relieving thing.”

 

Lena laughs and tugs at her fingers. “Just wait,” she says. “You haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

 

“Ah,” Kara says, in a dramatic, documentary-narrator voice, “the female orgasm. Men thought it was a myth, but women have proved them wrong.” She winks, half-laughing, and Lena huffs, smirking.

 

“Would you like me to demonstrate for you, Ms. Danvers?” She walks her fingers down Kara’s thigh, eliciting goosebumps as she goes. “All you have to do,” she murmurs, voice rough, “is ask.”

 

“Yes, please.” Kara refuses to acknowledge the tremor in her voice, or the nervous jitter that’s starting to run down her spine. “Make me come, Lena?”

 

“You,” Lena mutters, shaking her head, “are annoyingly attractive. Did you know that?” She leans down, across Kara’s body, and presses careful kisses on her stomach. “Are you sure?” Her fingers stroke criss-cross on Kara’s thigh and she feels sensitive, tight, _needy._

 

Kara’s breathing starts to go shallow. “Very sure. Please? Lena?” She knows Lena can’t say no to her, not with puppy eyes and bare skin.

 

“Anything for you,” Lena murmurs. Her fingers slip between Kara’s legs and — “You’re so wet,” she marvels, voice gravelly.

 

“Y-yeah,” Kara gasps. Lena’s hand tangles with hers and she holds it in a death grip. She’s drowning in sensation, swimming in touch and sound: the velvet press of Lena’s fingertips, rolling pleasure following each stroke; the slick slide of her fingers, obscene and secretly delightful; the sight of Lena’s dark forest eyes gazing up at her, pure lust, nothing but _want._ “Rao,” she whines, as if the sun god will deliver her from this threatening pressure, this bliss that pushes and grows. “Lena, I think —” She squeezes Lena’s hand, feels her pulse throb with each little teasing circle of Lena’s fingers. “Oh, _fuck_!” she gasps, and Lena’s murmuring something, low and reassuring and constant and it feels like —

 

— like her entire body focuses to a pinprick of white, tightening, stretching, and then _throbs_ outwards, expanding in a rolling wave of thick pleasure and aching bliss.

 

“Shhh,” is the first thing she hears, when she remembers to drag in a shuddering breath. “Shhh, you were amazing, Kara. Just breathe. I’m right here, okay?” Kara nods, sniffles (why’s she crying? get a grip, woman) and buries her face in the pillow, tears soaking into the cloth.

 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, laugh-crying into the pillow. “I’m such a mess right now.”

 

“Don’t apologize,” Lena says, fondly exasperated. “Orgasms can be very overwhelming if you’ve never had one. It’s a lot.” She strokes Kara’s hair gently, nails scratching pleasantly on her scalp. “Take your time, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Kara mumbles, and rolls over. Lena’s smiling at her. “You’re, like…really fucking amazing,” Kara informs her. “Did you know that?”

 

Lena chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. “That’s just the orgasm talking. But that’s nice of you to say.”

 

Kara sticks her arms out. “Hug me,” she demands. “I need cuddles.”

 

Lena raises an eyebrow, but falls into Kara’s arms nonetheless. “I was wondering if you’d be a post-coital cuddler.”

 

“Please never say ‘post-coital’ ever again,” Kara says, voice muffled in Lena’s shoulder. She wants to wrap herself up in nothing but Lena, wants to breathe her in and keep her close forever. Lena huffs, laughing, and Kara glares. “Cuddle me, Lena,” she orders, feeling petulant and affectionate all in one.

 

Lena hugs her. “Anything for you.”  


— — —

 

The sky is post-midnight, room shadowed and moonlit when Lena wakes up to find the bed empty, still warm but now too big. “Kara?” she calls, rubbing her eyes.

 

Yellow light spills from the bathroom door and a dark shape slips into the room. “Sorry,” Kara whispers. “Had to use the bathroom.” She slips back into bed and Lena snuggles into her arms, realigning her breathing with the steady beat of Kara’s heart.

 

Lena gazes out the window. It’s earlier than early morning, the liminal space between the illicit thrill of midnight and the pastel solitude of waking up early. The buildings are still draped in shadows. Streetlights still burn orange and lonely. Lena closes her eyes and breathes in the vanilla of Kara’s shampoo. “I used to think my feelings for you were a weakness,” she murmurs, a secret that floats in the hushed air. “I used to think being strong was pretending you didn’t have any effect on me at all.”

 

Kara hums, chest vibrating. “I sense a but.”

 

“But,” Lena says, relishing the knowledge on her tongue, “it’s not. What I feel for you...how much I love you...it’s the opposite of weakness. It’s like…” She searches for a proper comparison. “I don’t know,” she sighs. “You make me stronger. You inspire me.” She presses closer, listening to the deep bass of Kara’s heartbeat. “I love you.”

 

Kara’s silence is pensive. “My powers come from the yellow sun,” she murmurs. Each word vibrates her chest, a distant sound that makes Lena sleepy. “Without it, I’m as human as you are. But with it, I can do amazing things. I can save people. I can do good.” She strokes Lena’s hair. Somewhere, a siren wails. Lena can hear the gentle smile in Kara’s voice. “You’re my yellow sun, Lena.”

 

Lena doesn’t know what to say to that. “That’s….really gay,” she mumbles, drowsy.

 

Kara huffs out a laugh, sounding half asleep. “Thanks.” She pats Lena’s head. “Go to sleep,” she murmurs. “You’ll have plenty of time to be gay in the morning.”

 

“I’m always gay,” Lena mutters back, barely keeping her eyes open. 

 

Kara presses a kiss to her forehead. “Always,” she mumbles.

 

Lena closes her eyes. She falls asleep smiling, to the idea of forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me! It's been a journey. I appreciate all your comments (every single one!!).  
> Follow me @feveredreams.tumblr.com as I continue on to greater and gayer things. Thanks for reading!


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